


Heather and Honey

by Polkadotdotdot



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo being forced to do Scottish things, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gin is involved, Isle of Lewis, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Rom-Com, Reylo fluff, Rom-com, Scotland, Scottish Reylo, Sex, Smut, reylo smut, this is not a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polkadotdotdot/pseuds/Polkadotdotdot
Summary: Rey Lamont’s family has been creating Taobh le Sorcha Gin on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland for over a hundred years. After the death of her father, the distillery is left in her capable hands.Ben Solo has worked as a corporate lawyer for First Order Brewing Co. for years, overseeing dramatic takeovers of small, independent brewers.He has 3 weeks to convince Rey Lamont that it’s in her best interests to sell. How hard could that be?





	1. Fàilte gu Alba (Welcome to Scotland)

**Author's Note:**

> This came from a prompt sent to me by a lovely human called Angie who has been reading my work and supporting since day one!
> 
> I'll level, I have very little free time and I wasn't sure I'd fit this in but it's totally grabbed me so here I go. I'm definitely still writing Dark Nights but this is a bit of fluff rom-com goodness that I'll enjoy on a few fronts because:
> 
> 1) I am Scottish. Lamont is actually my ancestral family Clan name.  
> 2) I work in a Gin bar and I know a lot about Gin (I also drink it a lot so that's neither here nor there)
> 
> Enjoy! Please do comment. Comments keep me going like oxygen.

[](https://imgur.com/H27MWl9)

38 hours.

38 bloody hours Ben Solo had been traveling. The first-class flight from New York’s JFK to London Heathrow had been wonderful, the business class from London to Glasgow International a delight, but the moment he’d laid eyes on the rickety little plane that was to take him into Stornoway airport, he knew he was far out of his comfort zone.

The tiny plane had shaken for the duration of the 55-minute flight, landing with a graceless skid on the runway.

The Isle of Lewis was the largest island in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland, Stornoway being the largest settlement for miles around. Truthfully, Ben was amazed the place even had an airport. If you could call it that. Emerging from the wobbly plane, he squinted his exhausted eyes at the sky, covered by a thick layer of pale grey cloud but without rain.

The air was far fresher than he’d ever experienced, the cool of the coast fluttering across his pale skin as he made his way towards the building to collect his bags. Weary and wishing he’d worn something more comfortable than an Armani suit, he shuffled towards a waiting taxi.

“Excuse me, I’m headed to a place called…Ak-more?” he said uncertainly. The driver of the taxi smiled, his blue eyes full of amusement.

“American?” he asked with a chuckled, “Pegged ye the minute ye stepped out the door in your fancy suit. Ye’ll be meanin’ _Achmore_ ,” He said, the correct pronunciation of the village rolling off his tongue from his throaty accent. Ben squirmed uncomfortably.

“Uh, yeah…that’s the place,” he replied, “How far?”

“Ach, it’s no far at all, pal!” The man smiled merrily, “Just a wee half hour drive,”

“Great. I’m staying at this bed and breakfast,” Ben explained, handing the driver the paper with the address. The man nodded, stating that he knew it well. Ben sighed in relief as the car pulled away from the airport. His work was just beginning but at least he was less than an hour away from a hot shower and a good sleep.

Living in cities all his life, Ben had never experienced anywhere so open before, his normally cynical eyes wide with childlike wonder as he watched the rolling green of the fields, dotted with the occasional sheep. How did people live like this? What did they do when they wanted a coffee? Or take out?

Ridiculous, unimportant questions faded in and out of his overtired consciousness until they finally reached Achmore.

“Here we are then!” The man declared happily. Ben looked out the window at the building they’d stopped in front of. It was old, that much was clear, the aging stonework whitewashed but marred with decay while the slate tilted roof had certainly seen better days. Stepping out of the car, he looked all around him, accepting his bag from the driver.

“Are you sure this is right?” Ben asked in confusion. The man nodded.

“Aye, this is Achmore,”

“But…where is everything?” Ben stressed, wildly gesturing around him. He was certain he’d seen blocks in Manhattan larger than the settlement he was about to be abandoned in.

“Well, here we have Katana’s bed and breakfast. Down the road is a wee shop, and the building on the end there is a great pub that’ll dae you a dram and pie for a fiver!” The driver explained proudly. Ben stared at him in horror, shivering when a particularly cutting gust of wind blew through the street, biting at his skin.

“Ye’ll be wanting to get yourself some good woollies while you’re here!” The driver said, “Gets plenty cold out with that breeze comin’ aff the water!”

Ben nodded, muttering his thanks to the driver. The fact his nipples were hard enough to cut glass was all the indication he needed that he was _not_ suitably dressed for a Scottish island. Never mind that he was fighting his teeth from chattering.

Huffing a sigh, he pushed his way into a large, old cottage.

“BEN SOLO!”

“AH!” Ben cried, clutching his chest in fright at the sudden yelling of his name. A tiny old woman stepped out from behind the old reception desk, the structure clearly built haphazardly into the front lobby of the old cottage. She was a strange creature, with white hair pulled back into a tight bun and eyes magnified behind the thickest lenses he’d ever seen in a pair of glasses. Layered in a chunky wool jumper and knitted shawl, she reminded him of a startled owl.

“Welcome son! I’ve been expecting ye,” she greeted with a toothy grin, “Yer room is all ready for ye!” Ben smiled in relief. He was so close he could almost feel the heat of the shower already.

“Great,” he smiled politely, “Is there an ensuite? I’m going to take a shower…”

Maz threw her head back with hysterical laughter.

“Ensuite? Oh, my word, you are far from home aren’t ye?” She laughed, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes, “There’s a shared bathroom just along the hall there,”

“Shared?!”

“Well…yer my only guest right now and I actually live in the cottage across the road, so I suppose the place is all yours,” she explained happily, “Come on, I’ll take you to your room!”

The pit of dread forming in his stomach was growing by the second. The place was like a time capsule. It clearly hadn’t been renovated in years and in that time Maz Kanata had spent her life hoarding every useless piece of bric-a-brac she’d ever come across. The wooden floors were scraped with trenches worn into the slats leaving the surface uneven from years of tread. The whole place smelled of burning embers from the fireplace, the crackle of wood snapping in the air.

“Here we are! I hope it’s to yer liking…I didn’t realize we’d be welcoming such a big fella to town!” She smirked. The shameless up and down look she was giving him made Ben feel very exposed like he wanted to suddenly close his suit jacket.

The attention of the thirsty old woman were soon forgotten when he laid eyes on his room. There was no TV with a variety of international channels, no phone, no king size bed with pristine white sheets peeled back invitingly. No, instead he was met with a box of a room, a double bed covered with a floral duvet against the far wall with a simple dresser and mirror. A small window looked out towards the rolling fields that the cottage backed on to. Ben blinked in astonishment.

A highland cow was staring at him.

“BB! Away with ye!” Maz cried, pushing past Ben to shuffle into the room, tapping on the window to shoo the curious beast away, “Dinny mind him. He’s something of a local celebrity by now! He just likes to kick about town ye see,”

“I…a cow…wanders around the village?” Ben asked incredulously, “And nobody does anything?! Who does he belong to?”

“He belongs to himself,” Maz replied indignantly, “Dinny be knocking that beast’s independence!”

_Jesus take the wheel…_

He’d been awake too long. That’s all it was. Nosey cow or otherwise, Ben needed to wash, and he needed to sleep. He forced a smile on his face.

“So, thank you…If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to wash and catch up on some sleep,” he said kindly. Maz nodded, pulling him down to pinch his cheek. He stared at her, bewildered.

“Aye, not to worry son. You get some rest and I’ll have yer breakfast waiting in the morning!”

Ben nodded thankfully, pulling his phone from his pocket. The exhausted smile on his face replaced with horror when he saw the screen.

“Wait, Maz!” he cried, “Um, my phone…there doesn’t seem to be any signal. Where can I get some signal?”

Her laugh echoed down the halls.

Ben slowly began to unpack, pulling his wool coat from the case and hanging it up. As soon as he was able to make a call, he was going to be on the phone to HR to find out who exactly booked his accommodation. Throughout his career, he’d stayed in some of the finest hotels imaginable.

The Four Seasons this was _not._

“This is fine. This is fine. This is _fine_ ,” Ben muttered to himself, removing the last of his clothes and clearing the case from his bed.

He smelled like airplane and exhaustion. A wave of tiredness washed over him, his lids growing heavy now the bed was ready and waiting for him. The plan had changed. He would sleep now and wash in the morning. That way he’d be fresh, ready for his meeting and there was far less chance of him falling asleep in the shower.

Stripping his clothes, uncaring for the cost of his tailored suit that he abandoned to the floor, Ben climbed into the bed, more than ready to let sleep claim him. The duvet was thick and comforting, wrapping around his body. The pillow below his head was surprisingly supportive yet giving. Sighing happily, he stretched out his legs only for his ankles to meet solid wood.

“What the fuck?!”

His head snapped up from the pillow to stare down at his own feet, throwing the duvet out of the way to get a better look. It was just as he’d feared. He knew he wasn’t exactly a small man, standing six-foot-three, and it had never bothered him until that exact moment.

_You’ve gotta be kidding me…_

He glared at his own feet, dangling helplessly off the edge of the bed, growling in frustration and pulling his knees up towards his chest.

In an ancient cottage on the Isle of Lewis, Ben Solo slept in the fetal position wrapped in a floral duvet while a cow watched on through the window.

00000

Had he slept? Yes, he had.

Was he rested? Not a chance.

Jet lag had already begun to set in when Ben finally woke the next morning, the sky beautiful and clear as sunlight began to stream in through the windows. It was earie to him just how quiet the area was. He was so used to the constant sounds of the city, sirens, and traffic. Instead, he woke to the occasional chirrup of birds, the knocking of pots and pans in the kitchen as Maz prepared breakfast.

And BB the cow mooing at him from his bedroom window.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He cried, pulling the covers over his bare chest. BB the cow stared back, or at least Ben assumed he did, his big brown eyes covered by a layer of shaggy fur. Realizing that the animal wasn’t about to move any time soon, Ben crept out of bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor.

He gathered his things and headed towards the bathroom. From the strange, contorted position he’d found himself in, every muscle in his body was aching. Now he’d slept, his back and neck craved the soothing caress of a steaming hot shower. Towel and washbag in hand, he could almost imagine the water hitting his skin.

“Motherfucking son of a…”

Pushing the door of the bathroom open, Ben could see there was no shower. At all. Instead, against the wall of the room was a bathtub.

A very small bathtub.

He grumbled under his breath, something about murdering the first person back home who asked him about his trip. Scotland was quickly turning into his idea of a living nightmare.

He tiptoed across the freezing tiles of the bathroom floor, turning the squeaky faucets to fill the tub. His toes had begun to turn numb and from the small bathroom window, he could see he was not alone.

“Oh no. NO!” He scolded, flicking his towel at the window, “Stop following me! You are _not_ watching me take a bath you…you…cow!”

BB snorted, lazily moving away from the window as if bored with his current view.

Sighing, Ben lowered himself into the small tub, his knees pulled up to his chest to accommodate for his size. His first morning in Scotland and here he was, cupping lukewarm water to flick over himself in an old copper bath while avoiding the suspicious gaze of a rogue highland cow.

None of it mattered, he continued to tell himself. He wasn’t on vacation, he was there to do a job. For years he’d represented First Order Brewing in their takeovers. It was a simple process really. If First Order had already reached out to small, independent breweries and they didn’t respond, Ben was sent in with an offer they couldn’t refuse.

Sometimes it only took a matter of hours before the deal was signed but eventually, they all realized that they were better off in the long run and First Order had another brand under their umbrella.

That was why he was here. As well as whisky, Scotland was famous for gin and none seemed more sought after than _Taobh le Sorcha_ , made by a family run distillery on the island. The paperwork was already drafted. All he had to do was turn up, state his case for the company and leave with a signature. Ben smiled to himself as he awkwardly climbed out of the tub.

He toweled off his hair, lamenting to himself that there was no dryer supplied, and he changed into a fresh black suit, pulling on a red silk tie and his charcoal wool coat to finish the look.

_As if you don’t already stick out like a sore thumb you asshole…_

If he played his cards right, he could be back on a flight home by tomorrow.

00000

After being informed that the distillery was only a short walk from where he was staying, Ben took it upon himself to follow the directions he was given only to discover that leather dress shoes were not appropriate footwear for the fields and footpaths of the Outer Hebrides.

Never the less, with wet feet and muddy ankles, Ben came upon the Taobh le Sorcha distillery. A large white building that had clearly been part of a farm in another life, multiple buildings coming together to make up the estate. Vans were parked outside, the company logo visible in orange against the stark white. Next to the large open barn doors stood a dark man transferring crates into the back of one of the open vans.

“Excuse me, I’m wondering if I could speak with Obi Lamont?” Ben asked as he approached. The man stopped his task, noticing Ben’s accent, regarding him suspiciously.

“You must not have heard, Obi Lamont passed away quite some time ago,” The man said, “What can we do for you?”

“Ah, I’m Ben Solo. I’m looking to speak to the owner?” he said, extending his hand which the other man accepted.

“My name is Finn Stewart and if it’s the owner you’re lookin’ for then it’s Rey Lamont you’ll be wanting,” He said kindly, “Come on, I’ll take you,”

He obediently followed Finn into the building, walking past the huge copper stills, the smell of the alcohol and botanicals drifting through the air.

“You have an impressive set up here for such a small place,” Ben complimented, “How is business?”

“Business is good. The gin industry is thriving right now since it’s back to being the fashionable drink. I guess people worked out that it does the same job as vodka and tastes better!” he chuckled. The stopped outside an office door, Finn knocking and only opening when a feminine voice called for him to enter.

Ben walked into the office, immediately halting at the sight in front of him.

The woman who looked up from the desk was far younger than he expected, only looking to be in her mid-twenties. She smiled at him with a warm, welcoming grin comprised of perfect white teeth behind naturally rose-tinted lips. Her eyes shone with hazel hues in the light of the office as she pushed her long brunette hair behind her ear to stand from behind the desk.

“Hello, I’m Rey Lamont,” she greeted, “What can I do for you?”

Her accent struck him dumb. Not as thick as a few of the other, older residents he’d met. The ‘R’ of her name rolled beautifully from her tongue, punctuated by the enunciation of her ‘T’. It was delicate but proud in a way that he’d never experienced in America.

“Are you alright?” she asked, concern forming on her face and suddenly Ben realized he hadn’t spoken for almost a full minute.

“Oh, Yes!” He stammered, “I’m Ben Solo, I represent First Order Brewing,” he declared, finding his official capacity for speech.

Quickly, that warm welcoming smile that he was so enamored with slid from her face, replaced by a deep scowl.

“I already told your company that I wasn’t interested!” she said firmly, “I’m sorry Mr. Solo but I’m afraid you’ve come an awfully long way for nothing!”

Ben took a deep, steadying breath. He’d anticipated this would be the first response. It usually always was. The fact that it was a striking woman with hazel eyes and not an aging Scotsman he was negotiating with was not going to change his tactics.

“Now, Miss. Lamont, I know that it might seem a little overwhelming, but I have a contract here I promise you will find more than acceptable,”

The scowl on her face deepened, Rey’s eyes flashing in anger as she walked out from behind the desk, marching up to his startled form, poking him in the chest.

“Now you listen to me,” she snapped, “I am not _overwhelmed_! My family has been making Gin for over a hundred years and my Dad left it in my hands to keep it in the family! I’m not about to sell my soul to some heartless American corporation looking to cash in on the drinking trend. If you want that, go and bother Caorunn or Rock Rose,”

Ben awkwardly took a step back.

“There’s no need to be so aggressive. I’m just here to talk,” he said evenly. Rey snorted with derision.

“You’re here to offer me money in return for my livelihood,” she scoffed, “and I’m going to save you the trouble of asking again. I’m not accepting it. So, if there’s nothing else you have to say to me Mr. Solo…” she said sternly.

“Come on now, don’t you want to be rewarded for all your hard work? The kind of money we’re offering could set you up for life!” Rey rolled her eyes.

“You Americans! All you ever think about is money and how to get more of it,” She sneered, “I love my job and I love my life. Nothing you say is going to change that, so I kindly ask that you leave my office and my property,” she said sternly, gesturing to the door with an open palm. Ben could see from the hardness of her eyes that this wasn’t an argument he was going to win.

Not like this.

“Alright, Miss Lamont. I’ll go for now, but please…just think about my offer. I’ll still be around,” he said kindly, despite the fact she was physically turning him and pushing him out of her office door.

He ignored the sniggers of the workers, each smirking as he walked past towards the exit. The problem with old buildings was that raised voices carried and there was no doubt in Ben’s irritated mind that they’d heard each and every word Rey had yelled at him.

Making it outside, the wind blasted through his hair as he squinted at the screen on his phone, hoping two bars of a signal was enough to connect his call.

“Hux here,” the line crackled, fading in and out but it was enough.

“It’s Solo,” Ben shouted, beginning his walk back to the village, “I’ve spoken to the owner. Our information was wrong…”

“What? You’re breaking up…” Hux moaned down the phone. Ben could practically see the Englishman’s lip curl.

“I said our information was wrong!” He said, speaking louder as if that would help the fact he was in the middle of nowhere, “It wasn’t Obi Lamont. It’s owned by his daughter, Rey Lamont!”

“And that’s a problem because?”

“She isn’t going to budge,” Ben grumbled, “She doesn’t want to sell,” Hux sighed down the phone.

“This isn’t a negotiation, Solo, this is a takeover!” he spat, “Get her to sign those papers. Snoke wants that brand!”

“I’m telling you, this isn’t going to be an easy sell!” Ben sighed, “This is her family property!”

“You’ve got three weeks, Solo!” Hux snapped, “If you’re as good as you say you are then three weeks shouldn’t be a problem should it?”

The crackling on the line intensified, Hux becoming more static than voice. Ben took that as a sign that the call was mercifully over, hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his coat pocket.

Three weeks. He had three weeks to convince the girl that selling to the First Order was within her best interest. Ben groaned inwardly. That meant three more weeks of staying in Achmore, in the bed that was too small for him. His dreams of a flight home began to evaporate.

Then again, three weeks with someone like Rey? He thought of her smile, her bright hazel eyes, her beautiful pink lips, and something fluttered in his chest. Perhaps it wasn’t all bad after all.

Looking down at his ruined shoes, his muddy suit, he began to think. This girl, this Rey, wasn’t impressed by corporate jargon and money. If he was going to convince her that he wasn’t the enemy, he was going about it all wrong.

He needed a change of clothes.


	2. Aineol (Foreigner, stranger, unknown)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments so far! Really cool to see so many people who have visited Scotland as well :D
> 
> The gin Rey is talking about near the end of the chapter is all real. Pulling out my Gin bar training yo! The chapter titles are in Scottish Gaelic with translation in brackets...when I can. My Gaelic is ruuuuusty!
> 
> Enjoy!

[](https://imgur.com/aPEK1PL)

After thoroughly exploring all that Achmore had to offer, the expedition took him no longer than 30 minutes in total, it became very apparent to Ben that if he wanted to buy anything other than an overpriced jar of freeze-dried coffee or a pint of beer, he was going to have to travel further afield.

One taxi ride later and he once again found himself in the town of Stornoway. After the isolation of Achmore, the settlement was a welcome change and while he had tasks in mind, he saw no harm in wandering the streets to take in a little more of the views.

The sky was cloudless, bathing the environment in cold, pale light that sparkled off the water of the harbor. Ben stopped to lean on a railing near the docks, deeply inhaling the cold, sea air as gulls cried overhead. An unconscious smile pulled at his mouth. For all he was craving the instant gratification his life in New York afforded him, he could appreciate just how beautiful the place was.

For all it’s beauty, he was still freezing. With numb fingers, he reached into his pocket for the scrap of paper Maz had given him with the address he was looking for, spying the storefront just along the street.

_Dameron’s wilderness and wilds_

A bell tinkled above his head as he pushed open the wooden door to the shop. It wasn’t large by any means, certainly nothing like the camping stores he’d seen in the states, but it seemed to be exactly what he was needing. Already he spied the display of hiking boots and windbreaker jackets.

From the back of the store, a young man with dark hair and stubble appeared with a welcoming smile.

“Alright pal, how are you? What can I do for you today?” he asked, his accent soft. Ben couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Ah, I’m going to be on the island for longer than expected and, as it turns out, I don’t have a lot of appropriate clothing. Maz Kanata said you could help me?” Ben replied, watching the knowing glint appear in the man’s eye.

“American? Aye, I’ve seen plenty like yourself come here unprepared. Maz is a wee angel for sending you my way,” He chuckled, “I’m Poe Dameron, nice to meet you!” Ben shook his outstretched hand.

“Ben Solo,” he replied, “So, you can help me?”

“Ach aye! I can definitely get you kitted out!” Poe exclaimed, glancing down at Ben’s shoes, “You’re gonnae want to start with some decent boots,”

Considering his feet had never quite warmed up after being soaked on his walk to the distillery, Ben agreed enthusiastically.

Methodically Poe went around his store, first selecting a good pair of walking boots that he assured Ben no moisture would penetrate.

“Unless you jump into the loch, then you’re on your own!”

Soon Ben found himself encumbered with woolen jumpers, flannel shirts, hiking socks, and jeans. They were all a far cry from the designer labels he regularly purchased, but this was about function over fashion. Armani and Hugo Boss wouldn’t help him if he lost his toes to frostbite.

“So, eh…how are you plannin’ to pay for all this?” Poe asked awkwardly, watching the numbers on his cash register increase with every scan of a tag. Ben pulled out his credit card. It was the closest he’d ever been to seeing pound signs appear in someone’s eyes.

 “You own this place I take it?” Ben asked with interest. Poe nodded.

“I do. It was my Mum and Dad’s and they passed it on to me,” he explained, “I had actually moved to the mainland for a while. Studied marine biology at Glasgow University but I came home when my Dad took ill,”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Ben sympathized but Poe waved him off.

“Ah, don’t be. I love it here, this is my home. There’s nowhere else in the world like it and it feels good to take the load off my parents,” he smiled, “So, American, what brings you to our bonny wee island?”

“Actually, I’m here for work. I represent a brewing company, they want to do business with one of the local gin companies here,”

“Hence all the suits I’d imagine,” Poe winked, “Well, don’t you worry, you’ll blend in a bit better now. I take it you’re staying at Kanata’s cottage?”

“I am,” Poe grinned wolfishly.

“Great, now I know where to get you to take you for a wee dram!” Ben’s eyes widened, ready to protest.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that…”

“Don’t be daft!” Poe insisted, “You’re new and you need to experience real Scottish hospitality! Here, there’s my number…don’t hesitate to give me a ring if you need anything,”

Relenting, Ben smiled, pocketing the business card Poe had shoved into his hand. It wasn’t that people weren’t friendly where he was from, but he hadn’t ever experienced someone being so welcoming without any hint of hidden agenda. From the moment he’d set foot on the Isle of Lewis, he’d experienced nothing but an open-hearted smile and a friendly handshake.

For someone who had spent his whole life using persuasion to help secure business deals, the whole thing was slightly unnerving.

Two huge bags of weather appropriate clothing in his hands and a well-abused credit card in his wallet, Ben left Dameron’s Wilderness and Wilds with a light heart.

00000

_Alright. Let’s try this again…_

The new boots pinched. Poe had warned him as such, but it was annoying none the less. Changed into a pair of thick dark jeans, a dark green flannel shirt and appropriate North Face jacket complete with faux fur lined hood, Ben felt far more prepared to face the elements. The sun may have shone, but the cutting oceanic wind still beat against the body.

Leaving the cottage, the gravel crunched under his feet disturbing the quiet that still unnerved him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, sauntering in the direction of the distillery, passing by ‘The Thistle and Claymore’ pub that so many residents had pointed out to him.

BB the cow stood by the open door, his long, arrowed tongue darting out to lap at a pint in the hands of an aging man smoking a pipe.

“Ach away with ye, ya great lumberin’ numpty!” the man laughed, seemingly unbothered by the large animal and his sizable horns, “A pint of heavy isnae fer you!”

Ben could only make out three words of the overheard sentence.

The bright white of the distillery buildings shone in the naked sunlight, the delicate botanical fragrance wafting in the cool breeze towards his nose like a siren call. Perhaps there was a way to find a compromise with Rey? First Order brewing could take over the management, but Rey and her staff would stay on to ensure that the product was still to the highest standard.

He mentally noted that as soon as he had signal, he’d email the head office with his thoughts.

Approaching the building, his feet burning from his new boots, he met Finn with a clipboard in hand.

“Back again!” Finn laughed, “Must be a glutton for punishment. Didn’t Rey give you an earful yesterday?”

“Actually, I’m here to apologize to her. Is she around?” Ben asked. Finn smirked, the smug expression causing Ben to bristle slightly.

“She’s in the storage building moving some things about,” he answered, pointing in the direction of the building Ben needed, “At least your dressed for it today. Someone probably should have warned you she isn’t one for corporate lads in suits!”

He thanked Finn, ignoring the glint in the man’s eye. It was the same look that Poe had given him, the same that he’d experienced in others. For all the Scots were a friendly bunch, he couldn’t help but feel there was a silent, private joke about his American ways being had at his expense.

The storage building was just as the name described. Rows and rows of crates and barrels lined the walls, all labeled and dated. In the center of it all he found Rey, protective gloves on her hands as she rolled barrels into place. Clearly, she’d been working hard, her cheeks rosy with exertion, her cable knit jumped abandoned over a shelving unit and her hair pulled up into a messy bun.

“Uh, hi…” Ben greeted awkwardly, all eloquent sentences he’d constructed in his head leaving him when he laid eyes on her.

Rey stopped pushing the barrel, her head snapping up at the sound of his voice. Surprise gave way to annoyance, her brows knitting together.

“Oh, it’s you,” she grumbled, “What do you what? I’m pretty sure I made things clear yesterday,”

“I’m actually here to apologize,” he said contritely, walking closer to where she stood to pull the barrel to sit the correct way, “About yesterday…”

This was normally when the other person would cut in with something. They’d dismiss and say that it was fine or that they accepted. Instead, Rey simply stood in silence, her arms crossed, and an expectant look on her face.

“Well…go on then,” she demanded, tapping her toe impatiently. Ben floundered, his mouth flapping while he tried desperately to find the right words.

“I, um…I’m sorry?”

“For?” Rey pressed, “Normally when someone says they’re sorry they have something to be sorry for, so I’d like to hear you say it!”

Jesus, the woman was pushy. Here he was trying to apologize, make nice, do his job and all she was doing was giving him a hard time.

“I’m sorry that…you’re upset?” Rey rolled her eyes, snorting.

“ _That_ is not an apology!” she sniggered, “Try again,”

“Alright, I’m sorry that I tried to push something on you that you didn’t want. It’s obvious that this place means a lot to you and I’m sorry for my manner,”

The sincerity in his tone even took him by surprise. She regarded him carefully with narrowed eyes, the silence stretching between them until her face suddenly relaxed and a smile as warm as a roaring fire on a cold day lit up her eyes. Ben couldn’t explain why his windpipe quickly felt very tight.

“Thank you,” she said kindly, “Apology accepted. I know it’s not really you personally, you’re just doing your job,”

Hearing her acceptance, the tension melted from his shoulders, his body relaxing. Having her acknowledge that he was only doing a job, that it wasn’t personal, pleased him. For reasons he couldn’t articulate, he didn’t want the little Scottish brunette thinking badly of him.

“So, Ben Solo from America, I’m assuming you’ll be flying back home now you’ve got your answer,” she stated, her voice light as she began to tip and roll the barrel again.

“Actually, I’m going to be here a few more weeks. I’ve never been to Scotland, thought it might be nice to take in the sights,”

Rey pushed the final barrel into place, walking over to the shelving to grab another pair of gloves.

“Well, since you’re here…make yourself useful,” she grinned, throwing the gloves which he barely caught in astonishment, “Yer a big lad and I could use the help,”

Dumbstruck, he pulled the gloves on, moving to wherever Rey directed him. Truthfully the barrels weren’t that heavy to him, but he could see how someone of Rey’s stature might struggle.

“Tell me about yourself then,” he probed. Rey shrugged.

“Not much to tell really. Only child, I was born here on the island. My parents inherited this place from their parents and so on…I had been planning to leave to go and study engineering in Edinburgh but then my Mum took ill and I couldn’t leave my Dad by himself,” she said nostalgically as they worked, directing Ben to a corner with his barrel, “He taught me the workings of the business and being the only Lamont left, it passed along to me,”

“Do you ever think of leaving?” he asked. Rey shook her head.

“I used to, when I was younger,” she confessed sheepishly, “But this place is important. It’s not just gin. It’s my heritage, it’s part of this island’s culture. If I don’t keep it going and take care of it, then who will?”

He watched her curiously, her declaration so passionate it almost brought a lump to his throat. The salesman in him, the shark looking to close the deal would have assured her that First Order Brewing would be the compassionate company she needed to look after her family business. He had the sense to quash that line of thinking and instead it made him ponder his own ties.

“I can’t say I know how you feel. I’m a white dude from the American mid-west, I don’t really have a culture per se,” he said wistfully. Rey pulled off her gloves as Ben moved the last barrel into place.

“What about family then?” she asked curiously, “Anyone back home that’ll miss you? Mum? Dad? Wife?”

Ben snorted.

“Nope. No wife to speak of, or girlfriend for that matter,” he answered, trying to ignore the smile that appeared on Rey’s face. He was sure it meant nothing, “My relationship with my parents is…a little strained,”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she sympathized, “Why?” He raised an eyebrow at the bluntness of her question.

“Wow, you Scots are very direct. My Mom was in politics and my Dad was a lecturer in Archaeology at Harvard back in his day. They weren’t around a lot and when they were, they fought. It didn’t make for a happy home,”

“Are they still together?” she asked. Ben pulled off his own gloves, handing them to Rey.

“They are. I see them occasionally. They retired to Cambridge, so I have to make the trip out from New York,”

She was watching him again, a sadness behind her hazel eyes that he couldn’t quite place until she quickly cleared her throat.

“Well Ben, thank you for your hard work,” she collected herself, “I’d say that’s earned a wee drink, don’t you?”

“Oh y…you wanna have a drink…with me?” he stammered inelegantly, Rey staring at him like he’d grown another head.

“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t,” she said plainly, “Come on, follow me,”

She turned, walking towards the door as Ben scampered after her like a slightly confused puppy. Leaving the storage building, she walked them across the courtyard of the property to a large farmhouse.

Rey opened the double doors into the kitchen. Inside was far more modern than he’d experience on the Isle of Lewis. Polished slate tile floors in a sleek, modern design of grey cabinets and granite worktops that were tasteful and keeping within the style of the house.

He wondered if she had a power shower and if it was crossing a weird line if he asked to use it.

“Man, your house is gorgeous,” he awed, “And, if it’s not too rude, modern as hell!” Rey laughed.

“Ah, so I see you’ve been enjoying all the local facilities,” she giggled, “We’ve had some very good seasons, so the house was the first thing on my list to be renovated once we’d invested in the distillery. Take a seat,” she gestured to the rectangular kitchen table.

Ben sat down as Rey rummaged through her cupboards, producing two glasses before she pilfered her drinks cabinet, returning to the table once more with an armful of bottles.

“I thought we were just having a drink?” Ben questioned, his eyes growing wider with every bottle place on the table.

“We are,” Rey smiled conspiratorially, “Since you came here claiming to represent a drinks company, I want to see just how well you know your gin!”

_Oh God…_

“I, uh…I’ll be honest…I don’t really know anything about _gin_. I’m more of a bourbon drinker,” he confessed sheepishly, Rey’s radiant smile only growing wider.

“Perfect. I can teach you,” she declared confidently, bringing two glasses of water to the table. She picked up the first bottle, pouring a splash of the alcohol into his glass.

“Everyone thinks gin just tastes the same and it’s just like vodka,” Rey began, “But it’s so much more than that! It’s distilled in the same way but it’s the botanicals that you add that make it unique and special,”

Her face was alive with passion as she spoke, the clear love for her craft emboldening her words.

“This one is Lussa. It’s made by an all-female distilling team on the Isle of Jura,” she explained, picking up her own glass to swirl the gin and inhale the aromas. Ben followed suit.

“What are we mixing this with?” he asked. Rey snorted inelegantly, throwing her head back with a jovial laugh.

“Mixer? You’re in the islands now, big lad. There’s only one way to taste gin and that’s _neat_. No ice, no mixer!”

Spying the percentages on each of the bottles, Ben began to wish he’d eaten far more than a few slices of toast. Rey held up her glass.

“To new friends,” she toasted, sipping at the gin delicately. The drink washed over her tongue with a burn that gave way to skilfully mixed flavors.

Ben was coughing.

He reached for his water, hammering on his chest. Rey rolled her eyes, sniggering where she sat.

“Well that’s what you get for throwing it back like a shot!” she scolded, “We’re _tasting_ the gin. Not neckin’ it!” Grabbing the bottle, she poured him another, “This time…slowly. Now, what can you taste,”

_Alcohol. Straight fucking alcohol._

Once he’d allowed the Lussa gin to swirl around his palate for a moment, flavors began to surface. Lemon, thyme, mint.

“So, what do you think?” Rey asked. Ben nodded in appreciation.

“It’s…delicate,” he stated, “Kinda light…flowery,” Rey smiled proudly.

“Not bad for a first time!” she cleaned out his glass, pouring from the second bottle, “This is Isle of Arran, in case you couldn’t tell where it’s from. I think you’ll find it quite different,”

Picking up the glass and sniffing the gin, Ben could tell straight away that it was going to be strong. He sipped his glass, the flavor strangely savory on his tongue. He wrinkled his nose, swallowing the drink.

“Not a fan?” she asked, finishing her own. Ben shook his head.

“It’s very…herby,” He winced. Rey nodded in agreement.

“That’ll be the hogweed seed and sea lettuce,” she confirmed, “and now, this one,”

Rinsing his mouth with water, he reached for the third offering. The burn wasn’t as severe as the others, making for an easier swirl, coating his tongue and cheeks. It was like no spirit he’d tasted before. Light, floral and bursting with flavor.

“Well, what do you think?” Rey asked eagerly. Ben’s cheeks had already begun to flush, his eyes shining, “You should be getting hints of heather, blush apple, honey, and dandelion,”

“I could be the straight liquor on an empty stomach talking…but that’s the best gin I’ve ever tasted!” he enthused, “Who made this?!”

Rey smiled smugly.

“I did,”

The alcohol warming his chest and soothing his senses, Ben had never felt so at ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those asking, of course, I'm still writing Dark Nights you silly billies!


	3. Dàimhealachd (Friendship, Friendliness)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for all the lovely comments. This one is turning into a bit of a vanity project and I'm loving reconnecting with my nationality!

[](https://imgur.com/zgJGZQu)

His brain felt ten sizes too big for his skull.

Ben groaned, rolling his face into whatever soft surface he was lying on, convinced that the contents of his head would run from his nose at any minute. He needed air, attempting to take a deep breath through what he could only assume was a pillow, the scent of fabric softener and vanilla igniting his dulled senses.

He rolled to his back, slowly opening his bleary eyes. Wherever he was, it was certainly warmer than his lodgings at Kanata’s cottage. He found himself lying on one side of a large bed in a modestly decorated bedroom, the walls a pale lilac and grey. Wind beat against the windows, cracks of sunlight streaming between the gaps in the heavy curtains that had been drawn.

“Good morning!”

An angelic voice, soft in enunciation and warm to the tone, reached his ears. Gingerly he turned his head to see Rey standing at the end of the bed. She was already dressed, skinny jeans hugging her shapely legs and a slim fitted, cream wool jumper gracing her torso. Her dark hair fell casually in waves over her shoulder. She was fresh as a daisy and Ben resented her just a little for it.

“Um, morning,” He rasped, his mouth dry and desperate for water. Rey smiled innocently, circling the bed until she reached the window. Grabbing hold of the curtains she pulled them open without warning, the bright light of the day smacking Ben in the face.

“Oh God, why?!” he cried, throwing the duvet over her head to shield himself, “Why is the sun so loud?”

“Are we a little rough this morning?” Rey giggled, her accent rolling her R’s. Ben groaned.

“You could say that…” he muttered, cautiously revealing his face once more, squinting while his eyes adjusted to the light, “How are you so awake?” Rey shrugged.

“I’ve been tasting Gin since I was 12 years old!” She laughed, “You build up a tolerance. I suppose I _was_ feeling a little gammy this morning, but two paracetamol and a shower sorted me out,”

Ben nodded dumbly. The night before slowly crept back into the forefront. By the time they were done, they’d sank at least a bottle and a half of her own brand between them. Neat. Having eaten nothing all day, Ben had been in no fit state to be taken back to the cottage. He paled suddenly, his eyes glancing down at _exactly_ where he was.

“Um…You and me? We didn’t…” Rey smiled at him, Ben watching intently where her teeth indented her bottom lip. A pretty blush spread across her freckled cheeks, but she shook her head.

“No, the only undressing we did was your shoes and your shirt,” she explained. Ben threw the covers from his body. Sure enough, his boots were gone as was his flannel, leaving him in his jeans and the plain white tee he’d worn under, “I already called Maz, just so she knows you weren’t mauled to death by a rabid sheep,”

“Is that common?!” Rey ignored his question, crossing the room to pull some towels from the cupboard.

“Now, I’m going to make breakfast. I know you don’t have a change of clothes but how about a shower? Might make you feel better,”

So far his experiences of bathing in Scotland had been squeezing himself into an ancient bathtub clearly created for people with tiny legs. It wasn’t exactly what he’d describe as relaxing or refreshing. The mention of _a shower_ from her beautiful, pink lips might have been the most sensual thing he’d ever experienced.

“Holy shit…I think I might kiss you!” Ben declared, accepting the fluffy towels from her hand and following her towards the master bathroom. Rey looked up at him, a playful smile on her face, her hazel eyes shining with something he just couldn’t place in his hungover state.

“If you’re going to, make sure you brush your teeth first,” she winked, “There’s a pack of fresh brushes in the cabinet,”

_Does she want me to…wait, what?_

His head throbbed. His stomach was unsettled, and he was pretty sure he was about to stick his head under the cold faucet like a dog. All he could taste was stale alcohol. His mind simply wasn’t equipped to comprehend the kind of flirting that Rey may or may not have been hitting him with.

His confused thought process ground to a halt the moment the steaming water hit his skin.

The loud groan he released no doubt sounded obscene to anyone overhearing. He didn’t care. The water pressure was perfect as it hammered against the tight muscles across his shoulder blades, the heat with just the edge of a burn. Standing perfectly still under the stream, his thoughts drifted to the previous evening.

She was certainly not what he’d imagined. After accepting his apology, he’d expected himself to be fully focused on his job and that was obtaining her business. Instead, he’d spent the afternoon hauling barrels and the evening drinking copious amounts of gin in the company of a beautiful woman.

Beautiful she was. Hazel eyes, bright and lively that missed absolutely nothing. Dark hair that contrasted with smooth, pale skin. He’d caught some freckles on her shoulders and he wondered if those freckles spread to any other part of her lean, shapely body.

His eyes closed, he’d barely noticed his own hand drift towards his hardening cock as he imagined her below him. How she’d look up at him through half-mast eyes, moaning his name. He swiped his slit with his thumb, precum already beading at the tip of his solid member before he worked himself, the hot water helping his fist slide effortlessly.

It was obscene, he knew. He was running on primal instincts, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loudly as he pumped his shaft mercilessly. Rey above him, her tits bouncing as she chased her own bliss on his cock. Rey on her knees, those pretty lips parted just for him.

The pressure gave way, his release spurting in thick ropes on the tiles as Ben braced himself against the wall with one hand, slowing his movements with the other, his cock twitching in his palm. He breathed heavily, his body finally relaxing under the stream of water.

_That’s one way to clear the pipes…_

Horror sank in past his waning hangover, disgust tinging the corners of his mind when he realized that he had, in fact, just jacked off in the shower of a woman whom he’d known only a few days while fantasizing about said woman. Grabbing the shower head, he cleaned off the tiles to remove all evidence of his activities.

Suitably clean, in body if not mind, Ben stopped the water. Drying himself and changing back into his clothes.

“Sounded like you really missed a decent shower,” Rey smiled as he followed his nose into the kitchen. Various pans were on at the same time, the smell of bacon wafting through the home causing his stomach to growl impatiently. Ben’s eyes grew wide and he bit the inside of his cheek hard.

“Um, sorry? What?”

“The shower? I heard that groan when you got in,” Rey explained, “Believe me, I get it! The shower and bathrooms were the first things in this house to be upgraded!”

“Oh, right. Yeah!” he answered quickly, “The cottage Maz rents out is nice in a quaint way but it’s not exactly modern. I don’t really fit into the tub,” He muttered, sitting himself down at the table. Rey placed a steaming mug of rich coffee under his nose, the aroma making him groan all over again.

“You are an angel,” he awed, Rey laughing at his sorry state.

“You know, we do have all those modern things that you’re so attached to,” she said, flipping the bacon in the pan, “You just need to know where to look for them or better yet, try to wean yourself off them,” Ben grabbed the sugar in the middle of the kitchen table, dumping a heaped spoonful in his coffee.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t you remember a time when you weren’t addicted to your phone? When you just enjoyed your life without being constantly contactable?” She elaborated, divvying up the food she’d been making onto two plates. Ben sipped his coffee thoughtfully. He couldn’t remember a day when his cell phone wasn’t on, when it wasn’t ringing every other hour.

“I guess my job doesn’t really allow for that,” he admitted, “I’m always traveling, and I need to keep in contact with the head office back in America,”

Rey crossed the kitchen with two plates in her hand, placing one in front of him. His stomach growled again, the aroma of cooked bacon, sausage, and eggs wafting towards his nose.

“Holy shit. Thank you, this is amazing,” he smiled, Rey blushing under his praise sitting down across from him. “Wait…what is this?” he queried, pointing at the strange black disc on his plate. Rey stopped her cutlery on her plate.

“What?”

“This,” he said, poking at the strange food with his fork, “I don’t think I’ve had this before,” Rey smiled, cutting at her sausage.

“That’s black pudding,” She explained, “Specifically Stornoway black pudding, it’s famous!”

Ben stared at the strange food. It reminded him of a deep-fried hockey puck, spongy, black and glistening with grease. His nose wrinkled as his fork mashed the black pudding on his plate.

“Don’t play with it like a bairn!” Rey scolded, eating her own food, “At least try it before you decide you hate it,”

“What’s in it?” He asked uncertainly, his face both puzzled and slightly afraid. Rey snorted.

“Well, it’s beef suet, oatmeal, onion, salt, pepper…and blood,” she said, almost choking on her bacon from laughter at the horror on his face.

“Blood?!” he spluttered, “That’s what this is? _Blood_ pudding?” His hungover stomach lurched, churning

“Tad dramatic,” Rey sniggered, “Try it. If you honestly don’t like it then I’ll let you off the hook,”

Uncertainly he scooped the mashed black pudding onto his fork, the utensil hovering in front of his mouth. He swallowed, bracing himself for the inevitable stomach ache he was about to inflict on himself.

The first thing he could taste was an intense peppery flavor, savory and rich. The texture was strange, the pudding falling apart in his mouth without much need for chewing. He swallowed, Rey watching him intently.

“Well?”

Ben pondered his experience. His stomach was protesting but that had more to do with his hangover than the food. It hadn’t killed him, it wasn’t so unpleasant that he wanted to immediately vomit, overall it was a win.

“Not bad,” he shrugged. Rey rewarded his answer with a bright, beaming smile, Ben deciding then and there that he’d eat a whole plateful of the weird blood food if she kept looking at him that way.

“You said you’re always traveling, where have you been?” she asked curiously, sipping at her own mug.

“Let’s see. Italy, Spain, France, Russia, Ghana, Japan, New Zealand…all over the States,” he listed as he cut up his food. Rey nodded as she listened.

“Alright, and just how much of those places did you get to see?” she asked. Ben smiled.

“Well, I can tell you they all have brilliant hotels!” Rey shook her head sadly.

“See, that’s no good! What use is traveling the world if you don’t see any of it!” she declared, “Finish your breakfast, I’ve got an idea!”

“That sounds ominous…” Rey only continued to smile, playful and proud.

“Eat your food,”

00000

While the sun shone the wind was still cold and cutting, striking him in the face as they left Rey home.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he asked curiously, watching some of the other distillery workers walking around the warehouses in the distance. Rey shook her head.

“Contrary to popular belief, I do actually take some days off and today is one of them. Oh, and a Sunday,” she explained, “Nobody works a Sunday here!”

“So, what’s the plan?” Ben inquired, shoving his chilled hands in his coat pockets. Rey locked the door of the house, putting away her keys.

“We’re going for a walk,” she said simply. Ben blinked at her, waiting for the next part of her sentence before realizing that she was done talking.

“A walk? Is that all?” he drawled, “I thought you had something far more torturous in mind!” Rey smirked as she began to wander, Ben falling in line with her steps.

“And just when was the last time you actually did any kind of _real_ walking?” she asked, “I don’t mean on pavements. I mean just letting your feet take over and going for a proper walk?”

“I mean, I take a stroll in central park sometimes,” Ben muttered, Rey snorting at his response.

“That’s what I thought and it’s not the same thing,” she said smugly, “By the time I’m done with you today, your legs are going to be useless!”

Ben choked inelegantly on his own saliva, cursing his mind for immediately going to a filthy place. It was difficult when she was throwing out so many signals, coupling them with sentences that were begging to be made into a joke. He wondered if she was doing it on purpose.

Staying close together, they walked at a leisurely pace, Ben having to purposely slow his strides to make up for Rey’s smaller stature. For a while, they followed the beaten road until Ben skidded to halt, an incredulous frown on his face.

“YOU!”

A few meters ahead of them, chewing cud just off the road was BB, stopping to gaze at Ben with disinterest before he continued to eat.

“Oh, that’s BB!” Rey smiled, “Everyone knows BB,”

“I am fully aware of who he is!” Ben grumbled, “That monster stares at me through the cottage windows and follows me around the village!” Rey rolled her eyes.

“Ben, he’s a cow. He’d follow anyone if he thought they’d feed him,” she said, “You’re not special!”

“He watched me take a _bath_!”

“He’s harmless!” Rey insisted, making her way towards the giant brown animal, “Honestly, he’s been around here since he was a calf!”

Ben watched on with wary astonishment, noticing that BB’s horns were massive in comparison to Rey, the woman happily scratching the cow between the ears.

“Careful! He could…bite you?” Ben called after her, timidly following in her footsteps.

BB snorted indignantly.

“Come over here. He’s a big softie!” Rey said, closing the gap between her and Ben to grab his wrist, pulling him over to BB and placing his hand on the animal’s shaggy forehead. It was softer than Ben had imagined and warmer too.

“Okay…I touched the cow. Can we continue our walk now?” Rey nodded, giving him another one of her proud smiles that made his chest tighten.

“Bye BB, you be good now!”

Rey grabbed his hand again, pulling him in the direction that she wanted him to go. Ten minutes later, Ben realized that she hadn’t actually let go. Whether Rey was aware of this or not was a mystery to him, but she seemed happy enough, a content smile on her face as they walked the unstable terrain. Her hand was small in his, warm and far softer than he expected given how involved in her work she was. Who was he to ruin the moment when it felt so natural.

They approached a large body of water, the breeze spreading ripples across the surface as the sun glittered. Boots crunched on the stony edge of the lake, Ben bending down to pick up a slim stone. Winding his arm back he threw it underhand, the rock skipping across the water.

“I’ve always been useless at skimming,” Rey commented, her own stone falling into the water with a heavy splash. Ben smiled, picking up another stone, coming up behind her.

“You’re throwing it too overhand,” he said, giving her the rock. His right arm covered hers, his chest against her back as they looked out to the water, “You want to try and spin it so it kinda jumps off the water,”

She leaned closer into his body, allowing his hand to control her own. He could smell the fragrance of her hair, her head just below his chin, mingled with the freshness of the grass and water around them.

“Pull back…” he instructed, his arm leading hers, “And throw!”

The rock left her hand, spinning in the air to hit the water at speed, bouncing twice before submerging.

“I’ve never been able to do that!” Rey cried happily, turning to grin up at him.

“See, all you needed was the right technique,” he stated, suddenly very aware that she was inches from his body.

“Or maybe I just needed someone to teach me,” she said softly, her hazel eyes shining up at him warmly as she tilted her chin. Ben cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Hey, we should probably get back,” he murmured, “Got a long walk ahead,”

The smile on her face faltered, disappointment clear in her features as he turned away, heading from the edge of the water back towards the grass. Frowning defiantly, Rey watched until she was sure he had stable footing.

“Hey Ben?” she called. He turned to her expectantly.

“Yeah?” Rey smiled wickedly.

“If I’ve misjudged your reflexes, I’m going to be very disappointed,”

“If you’ve what my what now?!”

Without any more elaboration, Rey ran, jumping at him to hang around his neck, Ben grabbing her firmly under the thighs that had clamped around his waist, so she didn’t fall to the hard ground below.

Soft lips collided with his passionately, her insistent tongue licking for entry and he was only too happy to oblige, her hands sinking into his hair to pull him as close to her as possible. The scent of her hair, her skin, reminded him of wildflowers, intoxicating his senses and erasing all rational thought.

The sensible voice in his head tried to remind him that he had a job to do. That he was still on the clock. The woman in his arms, kissing him breathless, gave him other ideas.

When they finally parted, Rey still held aloft, her legs around his torso like a koala, she was smiling at him shyly.

As if she hadn’t just launched herself like a human projectile.

“So, uh…I like you,” she murmured softly. Ben smiled brightly.

He hadn’t thought about his phone the whole day.


	4. Pògan Mòra (Many kisses)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for your comments! I love you all!
> 
> This is fluffy rom-com nonsense and I thank you for reading it!

[](https://imgur.com/QsIWqhW)

There were certain so-called facts about women that Ben had always believed to be true, sometimes from personal experience.

Rarely were they direct with their emotions. If he asked a girl what was wrong when she was clearly so angry that steam may have potentially shot from her ears, she’d look at him with a cold, sharp gaze and simply answer the iconic single word.

“Nothing,”

As if he were a bloody mind reader.

They delighted in the chase, in dropping small hints and hoping that a man’s oblivious observation would pick up on them like Sherlock Holmes solving the case of ‘is this or is this not a date?’ Add on the pressure of any actual feelings being involved and it made for an exhausting process.

Then there was Rey.

Aside from the obvious difference in their nationalities, Rey was something of an oddity to him. Like finding a diamond in a bucket of coal or a pearl in an oyster, she was quite simply a different type of woman.

It was apparent she had no problems getting her hands dirty. She was a worker through and through unlike so many he’d known, happy to sit back and spend their husband’s money without working a day in their life. Her communication was playful and witty, far more intelligent than his, always edged with a warmth that showed there was no malice to her sarcastic tones.

And when she felt something or wanted something, there was no ambiguity about the subject. He didn’t have to wonder where he stood with her.

Mainly because he was still standing with her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck and her tongue passionately plundering his mouth.

If that wasn’t a clear-cut sign, he didn’t know what was.

“So, uh…I like you,” Rey murmured softly, “and I didn’t really have much of a plan past this, so any response would be great,”

Ben stared at her dumbly, convinced she’d managed to kiss any ability to speak from his mouth. The nervous smile on Rey’s face slowly began to fall the longer he remained silent. He’d kissed her back, hadn’t he? But still, he held her there above the ground.

“I like you too,” he confessed softly, “But…you know I live in America?”

“Ben, I’m telling you I like you. I’m not proposing marriage or anything,” she laughed lightly, “How long are you here for?”

“A little under three weeks,” he answered thoughtfully. Rey’s face broke into a wicked smile, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Then we better make the most of it!” she smiled, pulling him back for a kiss more heated than the first.

Neither had noticed the sky darken, dark clouds that rolled ominously in from the sea to snuff out the sunlight. Thunder rolled above them, and Rey pulled away, casting her eyes above.

“We should head back. You don’t want to be caught out here in the…”

Another clap of thunder followed a flash, the clouds bursting above them. Fat drops of freezing water bathed the land, Rey and Ben caught with it.

“Were you going to say rain?” Ben teased, water beginning to saturate his hair, dripping from his nose. Rey scowled.

“Oh, weisht!”

00000

Hand in hand they ran back towards the beaten path, Rey pointing out that Achmore wasn’t that far and they could at least dry off.

The development was unexpected, not unwanted, but guilt twisted in his gut. How was he supposed to convince her to sell her company now? Within barely three short days he’d become very accustomed to the way she looked at him and the idea of losing that made him feel vaguely queasy.

Because he liked her. A lot.

“We can wait this out in the pub I suppose,” Rey suggested, but Ben had another idea.

“You know, I’m still in my clothes from yesterday. I should grab something from the cottage,” he said, Rey agreeing as he pulled her in the direction of his lodgings. The streets of the village were deserted, but that was nothing new.

They pushed into the building, the old wooden door creaking in protest. It was strange how something so small could change his perceptions so rapidly. While he was still unimpressed with the lack of shower, the size of the bathtub and the ability of local wildlife to spy on him, the smell of the roaring open fire was comforting to his cold bones.

“Yer back!” Maz cried as they entered, hobbling through from the old living room, “Ah was beginnin’ to worry about ye!”

“Sorry Maz, that was my fault!” Rey smiled, “I convinced our guest here to have a wee drink with me,”

“Rey Lamont!” Maz beamed, “Oh I haven’t seen ye in so long! Let me have a look at you,” she smiled, looking the younger woman up and down, “Ach, yer a bonnie wee lass so ye are! Always workin’ hard on yer Gin, and I see ye met our American friend here,”

“I did!” Rey smiled sweetly, “But we got caught in the rain and Ben needs to grab a change of clothes. Think we’re heading to the pub, will you be coming later?”

“Ye know me hen, I’m no going to miss a wee dram!” Maz smiled, “I’ve just been makin’ sure this place is all clean and tidy,”

“The place looks great,” Ben smiled politely, finding that he genuinely meant to the compliment and it wasn’t just lip service. He was rewarded by Maz taking his hand, her old skin paper thin but warm against his.

“Yer a good boy!” she cooed, “Away with ye, get changed so you can take this lady for a drink!”

None too delicately, she turned him, pushing him in the direction of his room while Rey waited with Maz in the front hall.

“Dinny think I missed that wee look!” Maz smiled, wagging her bony finger at Rey, “I’ve been around long enough to know what a smitten woman looks like,” Rey blushed, pushing her damp hair from her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re on about!” Rey insisted, Maz chuckling openly, “We just met. We’re just friends,”

“Aye, so ye say, but he’s a handsome big bugger, isn’t he?” Rey smirked.

“He is definitely that!” she agreed, “But it doesn’t matter, he’s not staying. He’s only here a few weeks then he’s going back to America,”

“Funny that he ended up on our island,” Maz said mysteriously, “Almost like he was meant to be here,”

“Or that his company wants to buy my business and he was the one they sent to talk to me,” Rey said dryly. Maz pulled her down, leveling a finger at Rey’s face.

“Remember hen, what’s fur ye won’t go by ye,” she smiled, Rey rolling her eyes as she nodded.

“Okay, I’m good. You ready to go?” Ben asked, appearing from the hall he’d previously been pushed down wearing fresh clothes. Rey smiled at him, Maz watching the interaction carefully.

“Sure, let’s head,” she agreed, accepting his outstretched hand without hesitation.

“Mind what I said, what’s fur ye won’t go by ye!” Maz called behind her, Rey waving her farewell before the door closed.

The rain was still falling although it had lightened considerably, the ground mushy under their feet as they walked.

“What did that mean?” Ben asked curiously, watching a pink hue tint her cheeks.

“It’s just an old saying,” she shrugged, “Means that if something is fated for you then it’ll happen no matter what. Old folks here say it a lot,”

“Uhuh, and why was Maz saying it to you?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Rey deflected, smiling to herself as they walked. Ben shrugged.

“There’s a lot of things I want to know about,” he replied casually, “You, mainly,”

They stopped walking, Rey turning to him only a few steps away from the pub door. Under a shelter attached to the side of the building, BB the cow was lying hiding from the rain watching them with interest.

“Do you say that to all the girls you meet on your travels?” she teased, “or am I especially lucky?”

“Just you,” he murmured softly, bending down to meet her titled lips, giving in to the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach. He could feel her smile against his kiss.

From the shelter, BB grunted as if unimpressed by the whole display. Ben turned to glare at the animal, certain that if a cow could shrug, BB would have done just that.

“Why are you so obsessed with me?” he grumbled, glowering darkly while Rey only laughed, pulling him into the pub.

It was exactly as he’d expected. A far cry from the polished white and chrome bars in Manhattan, The Thistle and Claymore was unspeakably old and decorated as such. Old paintings hung on the walls, the furniture all made of dark mahogany wood. The carpet below his feet was vaguely sticky after years of spilled pints. Against one of the far walls, a huge fireplace was lit, the atmosphere tinged with the aroma of burning wood mingling with beer and spirits.

This wasn’t a bar. This was a local, and Ben finally came to understand the term.

The barman looked up from his newspaper, smiling cheerily at Rey.

“Wee Rey Lamont, finally taking a day off I see!” the man beamed, straightening from his position slumped over the bar, “Who is this you’ve got with ye?”

“Admiral, this is Ben Solo. Ben is visiting from America and I’m taking it upon myself to make sure he sees our home properly,” The man stood taller, Ben shaking his hand and noticing the firm grip, “Ben this is Andrew Akbar!”

“Nice to meet you,” Ben greeted, “Your bar is cool!”

“Thank you, son! Lovely to make yer acquaintance,” he said, “Now, what’ll it be?” Rey smiled slyly at Ben.

“Another Gin?” she asked innocently, delighting in the way his face paled.

“Uh, no thanks. Maybe something a little easier on the gut,” he groaned. Rey took pity on him, ordering two pints of cider and blackcurrant.

“Why is he called Admiral?” Ben whispered.

“He used to be in the navy back in the day. When he retired, he inherited this place,” she explained, “Everyone still calls him Admiral to this day!”

 They grabbed their drinks, wandering through the pub until they heard someone call their names.

“Rey! Ben! Over here!”

In the corner, near an old worn pool table, Poe Dameron was sitting with his own drink.

“What are you doing here?” Rey asked, “Don’t you have a store to run?”

“And don’t you have a distillery to run?” Poe quipped back with a smug smile, “It was quiet, so I closed early. I see you’ve met my pal here?”

“ _Your_ pal?” Rey questioned, “I didn’t know you’d met,” Poe grinned at Ben.

“Oh aye, Ben here is my best customer!” He declared, clapping the larger man on the back and almost spilling his pint, “Kitted him out for his stay on the island. So, how’d you two meet?” Ben opened his mouth to answer but Rey beat him to the punch.

“Ben is here to try and buy my business on behalf of some big company,” Rey grinned, “But I told him no and we’ve come to a bit of an understanding,” she winked.

There is was again. Guilt twisted in his gut. As far as Rey was concerned, her telling him ‘no’ was the end of the discussion. As far as the First Order was concerned, they weren’t going to stop until she had given in and he was the man sent to do the convincing. As far as _he_ was concerned, at that moment he just wanted to drink his pint in peace.

He changed the subject.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Ben asked, looking between Poe and Rey. Poe’s face was split by a wide, smug smile.

“Well, aside from the fact that everyone knows everyone on this island…seriously, gossip travels fast, you’ll see. Rey and I went to school together,”

“As did everyone our age here!” Rey added quickly, shooting Poe a warning glance that the man pointedly ignored.

“Really?” Ben asked interestedly, “That’s cool,”

“Oh yeah, me and Rey here go _way_ back. Don’t we doll?” He pressed, thoroughly enjoying his teasing and Rey’s unimpressed face.

“Stop being an arse!” Rey drawled, Ben’s eyebrow raising in question.

“What? It’s harmless knowledge! Me and Rey used to be a thing…”

“A thing?” Ben asked. Poe nodded.

“Aye, Rey used to be my girlfriend!”

“When we were 18!” Rey snapped, “Honestly, he does this all the time. Stop acting like it was a big fairy tale!”

“Oh, so you guys dated?” Ben clarified, forcing a smile on his face.

The guilt that had been creeping in his veins was replaced by something else, something far more primal and potentially green. Irrational jealousy gripped his chest, tightening its hold like a vice.

“Aye basically! Love at first sight, right, Reyrey?” Rey scowled.

“It wasn’t love, Poe. It’s a small island, it was lack of options!” she commented, slugging back her pint, “Now stop being a cunt. Ben doesn’t want to hear our life story,”

“Aye aye, alright,” Poe relented, “Anyway, since yer going to be here, has Rey told you about the ceilidh next week? For Finn’s birthday?”

“I actually hadn’t got around to it yet,” Rey said apologetically. Ben looked confused.

“A…what?”

“A ceilidh?!” Poe cried as if that offered all the explanation Ben needed, “KAY-LEE,” he enunciated. Ben shook his head.

“You’ve lost me…”

“A ceilidh is a traditional Scottish dance,” Rey explained patiently, “There’s a live band, food, loads of drink. It’s really social, nobody stands on ceremony!” Rey shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I don’t know…I don’t know the dances,” he mumbled, drinking his pint. Rey smiled at him gently.

“That’s okay, you can learn. The band takes everyone through the steps anyway!” she encouraged, “It’ll be fun and quite possibly the most Scottish thing you ever do!”

“Except drink Irn-Bru from a glass bottle while stoating home from the pub at two in the morning with a kebab in yer hand…” Poe added, earning another narrow-eyed glance from Rey. Poe only chuckled, finishing his drink.

“Well, if you folks don’t mind, I’m aff to see a man about a dug!” he smiled, “Ben, I better see you there. If you need something to wear, give me a shout!”

Ben nodded, unsure in what manner he would ever ‘give a shout’.

00000

The walk back to Rey’s home was quiet but comfortable, her hand tucked safely in his, but something still felt off for him. Poe Dameron was good looking, there was no denying that. He had a rugged quality that made him seem capable and a warm smile that would make most women swoon. Coupled with his accent and the history of growing up together, it gave Ben certain insecurity about his new…whatever it was with Rey.

“You’ve been quiet,” Rey commented as they walked through her kitchen, Ben unzipping his jacket to hang it over the back of a chair.

“Just…thinking about some things,” he replied, avoiding her inquisitive eyes. Rey took off her own coat, hanging it on the back of the door.

“About?”

“Just things,”

“What kind of things?” She pressed, Ben frowning at her persistence.

“So, you and Poe huh?” he said sullenly.

“Are you serious? _That’s_ what you’ve been thinking of the whole time?!” She cried incredulously. “We went out at the end of high school for less than a year before he went off to university! Please don’t tell me that you’re jealous?” Ben’s jaw clenched, his mouth mushing together while he tried to find the right words.

“Well…I mean…”

“Oh my God…you are! You’re jealous of Poe!” she exclaimed, her words outraged but laughter behind her tone, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of!”

“Come on! It’s not every day you tell someone you…like them and then meet their ex on the same day!” Ben replied defensively. Rey smirked at him, closing the distance between them. Standing on her toes, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers twirling in the strands of hair at his nape.

“Do you really want to spend the rest of your trip complaining about my high school boyfriend? Or do you want to put those lips to good use?”

The way she was gazing up at him through her dark lashes, the seductive smile on her face, the question rolling softly off her tongue, Ben found his mouth suddenly dry while his cock twitched in response. He couldn’t answer but his body certainly could.

Rey pressed herself against him, the growing bulge in his jeans grinding against her lower stomach, the friction dragging a groan from his throat. Her teeth nipped at his bottom lip, her tongue teasing the seam of his mouth, sweet and tempting.

“Are you sure?” he breathed, desperate for clarification before they crossed a line that they couldn’t come back from. Her hand tugged on his hair with a delicious pressure that tingled his scalp. Rey smiled up at him.

“Come on big guy, show me what you’ve got,”

Ben bent down, picking her up over his shoulder to march her towards the bed he’d found himself in that morning, Rey squealing with laughter.


	5. Teò-Chridheach (Affectionate, warm hearted)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bliadhna Mhath Ùr agus a h-uile nì nas fheàrr na chèile! 
> 
> Happy New Year and all the very best to everyone! Your support in 2018 blew me away and made my online handle recognizable in the Reylo community which in turn meant that my writing reached more people. For that I'll be forever grateful.
> 
> Here's to an amazing 2019 - The Year of Reylo!

[](https://imgur.com/v4NzBZK)

He’d been sent to Scotland for one reason and that was to do his job.

Ben Solo, one of the most renowned business lawyers in the country, graduated top of his class from Yale, rose quickly through the ranks of his profession. He was the man they sent in when nothing else worked. He was a problem solver, the company ‘cleaner’. Never had he lost focus on the task at hand.

Now he was on his back, stripped bare while Rey crawled towards him wearing nothing but black lace panties. Brunette waves spilled over her shoulder as her head tilted, a sinful smile on her face when she took him in hand. Just the touch of her fingers wrapping around his hard shaft had him twitching.

Forget the job, Ben’s lust-crazed mind could barely remember his own name.

She licked her lips, blowing gently over the head, the cooling sensation sending a tremor through his body and a hiss from between his teeth. Rey smirked up at him, thoroughly enjoying the agony of anticipation she was putting him through. It was a mercy when her tongue darted out to swipe away the bead of precum that had leaked from his slit, the contact making his hips jerk of their own volition.

“Sensitive, are we?” she teased. His brainpower dwindling, his only response was a garbled moan as her tongue trailed from his base, all the way up the underside of his shaft to swirl around the sensitive tip.

“Fuck…Rey, that feels amazing!” he groaned, his hips lifting from the mattress to thrust gently, meeting the bobbing of her head as she sucked. Her hand began to pump him, her mouth concentrating at the top, alternating the movements.

Ben forced his eyes open, not wanting to miss the view between his thighs. What he saw was downright corrupt, her pretty mouth and hand wrapped around his cock, her other hand caressing his balls to add another layer to the sensations. His hand found her hair, gently encouraging her movements.

“I’m gonna…you have to stop…” he panted, although it was the opposite of what he really wanted. She smiled around him, shaking her head and continuing exactly what she was doing. Right then and there, Ben decided she was an angel and a filthy one at that.

Humming as she worked, the vibrations made him tighten, molten hot pleasure spiking in his gut as he growled loudly. She held him against her tongue, eagerly swallowing every drop of him. He gasped for breath, his heart still racing when she finally pulled away after licking him clean, a smug smile on her face.

“That was fucking incredible,” he breathed, reaching down to hold her under the arms, pulling her to drape her over his body like a blanket. She kissed him soundly, her tongue gliding against his giving him the hedonistic sensation that he could still taste himself on her lips. Her nose nuzzled against his playfully.

“I hope you can go again sooner than later. I wasn’t done with you yet…you did promise to show me what you were made of,” she joked, giggling when one of his hands traced down her bare back, reaching the waistband of her panties and tugging on the fabric, his lips pressing kisses against her neck.

“Oh, I’ve got stamina for days, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently, “How about we get these off, so I can prove it to you?”

Holding her tightly, Rey found herself rolled to her back, Ben’s weight resting on his forearms as he hovered above her. His hand ghosted down her body, beginning at her collarbone, skimming her breast, her stomach until he reached her panties. He gripped the lace, one sharp tug ripping them from her body.

“You know, I did actually like those,” Rey grumbled without conviction. Ben shrugged, his mouth busy worshiping her skin, moving down her body to nudge her thighs apart. He whistled in appreciation of the sight, Rey blushing a pretty shade of pink and wrinkling her nose.

“No, no, don’t you do that!” Ben smiled, “You don’t get to blush when you’re that perfect,” he emphasized his point by dragging a single digit through her damp slit, the sudden contact drawing a gasp and causing her back to arch, “And God, you are perfect…”

He wasn’t about to rush, beginning at her inner knee with the lightest of kisses, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. Her hips squirmed, rolling towards him to encourage the contact she craved from him. He smiled triumphantly, hidden from her view, taking the opportunity to lightly nip at her inner thigh. The action earned a yelp and a frustrated groan.

“You teasing bastard,”

“Just returning the favour sweetheart,” he replied, spreading her legs wider. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her writhing body firmly in place when he finally mercifully put her out of her misery, licking a path through her slit experimentally, humming in appreciation.

He moved slowly at first, mapping her out and testing her reactions. Long, light touches didn’t do much, but sharp flicks against her clit had her panting. When he swirled around the bud, stopping to latch on with his lips and suck, she cried out the most debauched moan, his arms anchoring her to the bed.

“Ben…Ben…”

She could barely focus, her eyes fluttering with every pass of his tongue, building a molten heat in her core that erupted, her body convulsing so viciously it was all she could do to grab a fistful of his hair with one hand and the sheets with the other as she screamed his name.

His contact softened, moving his attention away from her overstimulated clit to circle around, working her through the aftershocks of her orgasm until her thighs were trembling. The way she was calling his name, the taste of her on his lips, fuelled a desperate need in him to claim her as his own.

Swiftly he moved to cover her body, his revitalized cock solid and throbbing as it ground against her naked body. She had barely caught her breath when he kissed her passionately, positioning himself between her legs, the head of him nudging at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” He panted gruffly, his teeth almost gritting with the effort of holding himself back. Her arms looped his neck as his arms rested on either side of her head.

“I’m on the pill and if you don’t make good on those promises of yours the next kiss, you’ll get will be Glaswegian,” she growled, a genuine threat lingering behind her joking words. Ben snorted inelegantly, the quip was forgotten as he pushed forward, her tight walls gripping every inch of him.

His head lolled forward with a long, low grown, his chin resting against his chest as he stilled, allowing her to acclimatize to his size.

“God, you feel _so_ good,” he groaned, “Okay?” she nodded unsteadily.

“Move…you’ve got to move,” she breathed, sucking in a breath as he pulled back only to slam back to the hilt, the force rocking the bed. A hand snaked from his neck, fisting in his dark locks to force his eyes to look at her, “Come on big lad, is that all you’re made of?”

She was goading him, and he knew it. He loved it, grabbing her leg to hike it further up his hip so he could lean all his weight on his hands, plowing into her with everything he had, the headboard smacking against the wall with every thrust.

Her grip around his neck tightened, her ankles locking around his lower back as he pistoned his hips against hers, a cry leaving her with every snap. She was perfect, her svelte body responsive to every touch as she moaned beneath him. It was as if someone had taken his idea of a perfect woman and put her in the world for him to find.

He shook his head free of those particularly dangerous thoughts, deciding it was better for his sanity (although not much) to concentrate on how her slicked heat pulsed around his cock, the lewd sounds of their connection echoing through the house. Suddenly he was glad that Rey lived in a remote area.

The second orgasm built far faster than the first, her oversensitive body like a livewire desperately seeking earth. He could feel her throbbing around him, clenching tightly as he leaned back on his knees to watch where he disappeared into her, his face entranced. Her thighs shook, her whole lower body clenching around him as he fucked her through it all, his hips slamming into her a final time as he followed, his cock twitching his release.

Carefully he pulled from her, his cum tickling as it leaked to her thigh. He rolled to the side, doing his best to avoid crushing her with his huge frame. A comfortable silence filled the room, the pair catching their breath in the afterglow.

“That was…” Rey began, her still recovering brain unable to form a full sentence. Ben smiled softly, still staring at the ceiling.

“Incredible,” he agreed softly. His limbs were heavy, lethargic as he shifted awkwardly to pull her into his arms. Rey sighed happily, burying her head into his bare chest.

“So…what happens now?” Rey asked quietly. Ben tightened his grip on her body, the sweat on their skin cooling.

What did happen now? Even if he wasn’t working for a corporation that wanted to buy out her business, there was still the fact that he lived in New York and she lived on the other side of the world in Scotland. He wasn’t staying forever, his days on the island were numbered one way or another. Was it even possible to date someone when there were 4,255 miles of water between?

But there was no denying that _something_ was there, whatever it was. An intangible force was connecting them in a profound way that he’d never experienced before. She excited him, challenged him. She wasn’t afraid to call him on his bullshit. It was a refreshing change to his meager dating life back home.

“I…I’m not here for long,” Ben answered awkwardly, “I guess we keep things casual?”

“Casual, sure. Yeah, that’s probably the best thing to do,” Rey said flippantly, her fingers curling where she gripped his side.

Casual made sense. They could spend time, have fun together then go their separate ways content with the memories of their fling. He would be a warm memory on a cold evening and she could be a racy story to tell his friends.

Not that he was the type to kiss and tell like that.

“So, Finn’s birthday next week?” Ben said, abruptly changing the subject to safer ground. Rey nodded.

“Yup. Same thing every year,” she confirmed, “There’s a big ceilidh after the games,”

“The games?” Rey sat up from his chest, leaning on her hands to stare down at him before the dawning of realization passed her face.

“Of course, you have no idea. The Harris games. They take place at the same time every year and it happens to be Finn’s birthday,” she explained, an excited smile on her face that Ben returned curiously.

“What kind of games?”

“Highland games! Tossing the caber, the hammer throw, tug of war!” Rey exclaimed, “It’s also mainly an excuse for most of the island to take the day off and drink as much as possible. You, uh…you should come,”

“It sounds like fun,”

“I mean, if anything it’ll be a fun story for you to tell when you go back home,” Rey continued, her voice growing dejected with the mention of his departure. Ben reached up with his hand, caressing her cheek.

“Come on, where’s that smile?” he coaxed, her eyes bashfully looking away as she bit her lip, the corners of her mouth lifting unbidden, “There it is. There’s that gorgeous smile!”

Her cheeks flushed, rosy in comparison to her pale freckled skin. Something in his stomach flipped, an uncomfortable pang hitting him as he lay there gazing up at her. There was a playful glint in her eye and something else he couldn’t place, something reserved and unsure but he knew the longer he stayed, the more danger he was in.

“You probably shouldn’t say things like that to me if you aren’t planning on hanging about,” she said sheepishly, “Pining isn’t really my thing,” Ben dropped his smile, assuming mock severity.

“Of course, I’ll stop all compliments at once,” he said, his lips quirking with amusement as he tried not to smile, “How dare I,”

“That’s better,” she grinned, “Besides, I can think of other uses for that mouth of yours,”

She slid back down to his chest, kissing him softly while she smiled against his lips.

By the time Ben left her home, the sun was beginning to rise on a new day, the countryside bathed in a warm orange glow that shone on the dewy grass. Rey walked him to her front door, clad in nothing but a long tee shirt and her underwear. He kissed her one last time on her doorstep, promising to see her again later.

Across the grass, BB chewed, staring directly at the couple. Ben only noticed the animal when her door closed. He glowered at the cow.

“Don’t judge me!”

00000

There was a giddy smile on her face again.

Throughout the day he would drift to the forefront of her thoughts and there it would appear. The grin would spread slowly, blush warming her face as she wandered the distillery. It wasn’t built to last, she knew that, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the butterflies that caught in her stomach when she thought of him. His dark eyes could be seen when she closed her own, his accent heating her blood.

Who’d have thought she’d have a thing for an American?

“You seem happy today,” Finn commented, checking off crates for delivery on his list. Rey stopped her wandering, not wanting to admit that her head was so in the clouds she hadn’t been sure exactly where she was going. She shrugged at her friend.

“Oh, I guess,” she replied casually, “Just in a good mood,”

“Are ye, aye?” he smirked, “Does that good mood have anything to do with the tall, American lad?”

“No!” Rey cried indignantly, her answer too fast and too insistent to be true. Finn’s smile widened, smug and vindicated, “I mean…maybe?”

“I knew it!” Finn declared, clapping his hand against his clipboard, “So, how did that come about then?”

“I…It just happened! We spent some time together and he’s really nice…”

“But he’s still trying to buy this place?” Finn asked. Rey paused, stilling where she stood. For all the time they’d spent together and the joke she had made at his jobs expense, it hadn’t occurred to her that he would still expect her to sell to the First Order.

“I mean, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Not since the day we met, and I told him where to go!” she surmised, “He knows how I feel about it anyway. It’s nothing to do with that,” Finn nodded.

“You’re probably right. He seems like a good enough guy,” Finn agreed, “and he’s certainly put a wee smile on your face. What’s going to happen though?”

“What do you mean?”

“When he goes? Isn’t he only here for a few weeks?” Rey shrugged awkwardly, suddenly very interested in her cuticle situation.

“Nothing really. We’re just having a good time together,” she muttered, “It’s just a bit of fun! Not like it’s love or anything,” Finn raised an eyebrow, staring at her skeptically.

“Uhuh. Well, just be careful,” he warned, “The last thing I want is for you to get all heartbroken,” Rey rolled her eyes.

“A Scottish lass heartbroken over a yank? That’ll be right!”

00000

His walk back to the cottage had given him time to think, to reflect on his situation.

He was in another country, one he would be leaving in just over a fortnight. Said country happened to be home to a beautiful island and that island was home to a girl with hazel eyes and a beautiful smile that knocked the air out of his lungs.

It was also home to a cow that had decided to follow him ten paces behind, but that was another matter.

He had been content to tell himself that there was nothing to look into. Her fleeting touches and flirty glances were all in his head but then she debunked that theory when she physically threw herself at him. He began to ponder if casual was something they were going to be capable of.

Knowing her was like treading the most beautiful blue ocean. The water was warm and inviting. You’d swim out further and further from shore and before you knew it, the undertow was pulling you down. That’s how he felt. He was suddenly being sucked into a maze of feelings he didn’t know nor felt ready to face.

Reaching his room, he smiled noticing that the fireplace had been lit casting a comforting glow and warming the place. He threw his coat over a nearby chair, throwing himself back on the bed. From inside his jeans pocket, his phone began to ring, the sound making him jump having become so foreign after only a few days.

“Hello?” The line crackled and faded.

“Solo? Finally, it’s taken me ages to get through!” Hux snapped on the other end of the line, his voice distorted, “How are things progressing with the girl?”

“Um, yeah…things are certainly…progressing,” Ben stammered awkwardly, screwing up his face as he sat up to stare at the fire.

“How quickly? Snoke is growing impatient,”

An ice-cold weight settled in Ben’s stomach, the harsh reality of his situation smacking in him the gut. He was there to do his job, not flirt with the mark.

“It’s taking time. She’s stubborn,” he excused, “It’s going to take a little longer than expected,”

“You’ve been given a three-week deadline, Solo, and the First Order expects you to stick to it. You have 16 more days and on the last we expect you to walk into this office with a signed contract in your hand…”

“Oh Hux, you’re break…up…I ca…he…yo…” Ben exclaimed dramatically, purposely cutting off his voice in a strange staccato speech before hanging up the phone. He dropped the device, falling back to the bed with a heavy sigh.

_Fuck…_


	6. Tinn le gaol (Lovesick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thanks, Maz,” He grinned reaching for the warm mug next to his plate. His first mistake had been note checking the contents of the mug. His second was taking an overenthusiastic gulp.
> 
> The warm whisky hit the back of his throat like fire, smoky and rich with a tiny hint of sweetness but almost certainly pure alcohol. Ben coughed violently, smacking himself on the chest as he gasped for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back updating this story! Thank you for waiting patiently, I know a few of you asked me about this. Now that my ABO Dark Nights is complete, I'm going to be focusing on this tale as well as my other two WIPs!
> 
> Chapter count for this one is liable to go up by one or two!

[](https://imgur.com/rUcrTXL)

It was the first night since he’d slept with Rey that he’d stayed in the bed at Maz’s cottage. Having experienced Rey’s lush king size and central heating, returning to the room that hadn’t been renovated since the late 80s was a painful experience. The night before the games was a busy one, Rey preparing her employees for their stand as one of the official sponsors, instructing them and distributing her product. She’d been apologetic, promising that she would make up for their lost time.

“It’s not like you’re here for long,” she’d added, the remainder creating a strange and sudden pressure in his chest.

Despite his feet hanging off the bed, the wind battering off the rickety, single glazed windows and a curious cow spying on him with fascination, Ben remained optimistic. He’d blocked all calls from his work, citing that the signal was so bad they simply couldn’t get through and oh dear, what a shame that was.

A sharp knock at the door caused him to roll towards the noise, forgetting how small the bed actually was. He teetered on the edge, making an undignified yelp as he landed in a heap on the floor.

Instead of waiting for an invitation, the door opened regardless of his wishes. Maz stood in the doorway staring down at him as if it were perfectly natural to find him half dressed on the ground.

“Ach, what are ye doing lying there on the floor like a big lump?” Maz tutted, “Come on big lad, up! Yer breakfast is already on the table,”

From outside, Ben heard BB ‘moo’. Never before had he experienced an animal laughing at him, but now he was certain that was the case.

Nothing would rock his sunny outlook. Not today. He collected himself from the floor, grabbing appropriate clothes for the day ahead. He was going to show Rey that he belonged, that he was more than just some American tourist. He wanted her to see that he could really fit in with her friends, her lifestyle and that maybe there was more to this than a throwaway fling.

People did long distance all the time, right?

Dressed in boots, thick dark jeans, and a dark green wool sweater, Ben shuffled towards the kitchen where Maz had left his food on the table. By now he was fairly familiar with Scottish fayre, having spent almost two weeks in the company of Maz, Rey and her friends. The cooked breakfast was growing on him, freshly fried bacon, Lorne sausage, eggs, and black pudding gleaming at him from the plate.

“Eat up, son!” Maz pestered, toddling around the kitchen, “Lots of walking at the games! You’ll need yer energy,” as she spoke, she leaned over the table, shoveling two huge helpings of fried bread onto his plate. Where he had once been minorly irked by her ways, the little old woman was growing on him. Ben smiled affectionately.

“Thanks, Maz,” He grinned reaching for the warm mug next to his plate. His first mistake had been not checking the contents of the mug. His second was taking an overenthusiastic gulp.

The warm whisky hit the back of his throat like fire, smoky and rich with a tiny hint of sweetness but almost certainly pure alcohol. Ben coughed violently, smacking himself on the chest as he gasped for air.

“What the hell, Maz?!” he spluttered, wiping his mouth. The old woman laughed heartily.

“I’d have thought a big chap like you could handle yer drink!” she chuckled. Ben scowled.

“It’s not even nine in the morning…”

“Haven’t ye ever had a wee hot toddy?” Maz asked expectantly. Ben blinked dumbly at her.

“A…what?”

“A hot toddy!” Maz declared as if the answer were obvious, “A wee bit of whisky warmed up with honey. That’ll put some hair on yer chest! Set to be a cold wee day,” Ben raised an eyebrow, watching her pour a ‘hot toddy’ of her own.

“Aren’t you supposed to drink the alcohol when you come _back in_ from the cold? Not before you head out?” he asked. Maz raised her cup to her lips, never breaking eye contact as she took a long, slow sip.

“Ah know what I’m aboot, son,”

_Alrighty then…_

He’d barely made it through half his plate when the front door opened, Rey’s voice echoing through the cottage.

“Hello? Ben, are you ready to go?” she called, wandering through to the homely kitchen, “Good morning you two,” she smiled.

“Morning darlin’,” Maz greeted, “Can I interest you in a wee nip before you go? It’s awfy cold outside!” Rey did her best to suppress her smirk, having smelt the warmed whisky as she’d walked in.

“None for me just now, I’m driving,” she declined, “Ready to go?” she asked Ben. He nodded, grabbing his cup and draining the contents.

“Yeah, let’s go!” He smiled, the honeyed whisky warming his chest. He waved goodbye to Maz, following Rey out of the cottage towards her land rover.

“Drinking in the morning,” she commented cheekily, “Maz has really sunk her claws into you!”

“What can I say, it’s rude to say no to your host,” he smiled, grabbing her around the waist to pull her against him, Rey melting into his arms as he kissed her. She found herself trapped between his torso and her car, the taste of whisky on his tongue.

“I missed you last night,” he said impulsively, enjoying the blush that appeared on her cheeks as she shyly smiled back.

“I missed you too,” she replied, “Come on, you’ve got a long day ahead of you!”

“So, I keep being told,” he groaned, allowing Rey to wriggle out from between him and the car. He climbed into the passenger side of her SUV. “What’s the plan today anyway?”

“Ben Solo, you’re about to go native,”

00000

The closest thing Ben could imagine the Harris games being akin to would be a county fair.

Not that he’d been to many of those in his lifetime. He was a city boy through and through, but he’d seen plenty in movies and he supposed this was very like them. Only it wasn’t.

They pulled up to a vast expanse of land, open and lush not too far from where Rey lived. She parked closer to the site than most, using her vendors pass to gain an advantageous spot. There were no carnival rides or anything as elaborate but there were plenty of stalls set up selling all kinds of local produce, farmers displaying some of their animals much to the delight of local children and, of course, in the distance, he could see the area set aside for the actual games events.

Rey visited her stall first, double checking that everything was in place and telling her employees to contact her if there were any urgent issues. As they walked, he felt her hand slip into his, her arms wrapping around his bicep. Island life was insular, everyone knew everyone and Rey Lamont walking hand in hand around the games site with ‘The American’ drew more than a few curious looks.

“People are staring at us,” he commented quietly, bending down to reach her ear. Rey giggled, only holding onto his arm tighter.

“You’re new and interesting,” she said casually, “And mine,”

“Yours, huh?” he repeated. Rey’s mouth flapped, her eyes suddenly glancing down at the grass as they wandered.

“Well, you know, until you have to go home,” she muttered. Ben nodded.

“Yeah, right…home,” he mumbled dejectedly, “but that’s not for another five days so how about we forget about that and instead you teach me something Scottish? Hmm?” Rey nodded reluctantly, her face still sullen. Ben stopped their walking, using his hand to tilt her face towards his. “Come on, where’s my smile?”

Slowly, her expression shifted, the corners of her mouth lifting.

“That stupid accent of yours gets me every time,” she admitted sheepishly. Ben grinned proudly.

“You love it!” he said, bending down to kiss her gently, Rey standing on her toes. A few giggles and the odd wolf whistle could be heard, but neither paid any attention until a voice shouted in their direction.

“Awright. Enough of that you two. There are weans about!” Poe laughed, approaching them with his hands firmly shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a huge chunky scarf around his neck.

“There’s what about?”

“Weans. Bairns. Kids,”

“Oh,”

“Anyway, havin’ a good time?” Poe asked happily, “Aside from the obvious…”

“Poe, don’t start!” Rey warned, the other man holding his hands up in defense.

“Alright, just having a wee bit of fun!” he chuckled, “Seriously though, the games are good this year, aye?”

“Don’t really have anything to compare it to but yeah, it’s great. It’s fun,” Ben replied shortly, Rey glancing in his direction at his tone. Before she could respond, Kaydel approached them.

“Rey! I’m sorry to get in the way but someone wants to talk to you at the stall. Could you come over?” Kaydel asked, her face apologetic. Rey forced a smile past her annoyance. Regardless of her plans, her business was too important to pass off.

“Sure. Sorry, it won’t take long I promise!” she apologized to Ben. Poe grinned, clapping Ben hard on the back.

“Dinnae you worry hen. I’ll babysit yer boy here!” he laughed. Rey rolled her eyes, following Kaydel back to the booth, leaving the two men alone.

“Come on, let’s grab a wee dram. It’s bloody freezing out here!” Poe declared, gesturing towards one of the many drink tents. Ben nodded, reluctantly following. After a beat of silence, Poe spoke again.

“Right then, out with it,” Ben frowned.

“Out with what?” he replied sullenly, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. Poe smirked.

“You have been in a pure mood with me ever since that day in the pub,” he stated, “and I’m willing to bet wee Rey has a whole lot to do with that,”

“That’s not true…”

“Ach yer arse! It’s totally true. Listen, big man, me and Rey? We were a thing in high school. There’s nothing there and it certainly wasn’t true love. It was two bored kids with nothing better to do. Besides, see that wee blonde stunner? That’s the lassie I’ve got my eye on!”

Quickly Ben began to feel foolish. Poe had been nothing but nice to him since his arrival and he’d been acting like a surly teen over petty jealousy. Poe barked a laugh, clapping Ben on the back once more.

“Don’t worry yer pretty wee head about it!” Poe chuckled, “So, how are things going with our Rey?”

“Things have been great,” Ben answered honestly, “I’ve noticed a lot of people staring every time we go out though,”

“Aye, that’ll happen. Local lass having a fling with the first new person on the island in well over a year. You’re giving people something to talk about, better than any movie for these folks,”

They wandered into the tent, Poe instructing the barman to serve them with two pints of ale that they were told was made locally.

“You’re leaving soon though aren’t you?” Poe asked. Ben nodded reluctantly.

“Uh, yeah I am…”

“But you don’t want to do you?” Poe prompted. Ben took a large gulp of his ale. “That’s what I thought,”

“I don’t have much of a choice,” Ben mumbled.

“Well we live in modern times. Believe it or not, we have broadband. You _can_ keep in touch,” Ben shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s what this is,”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s…casual,” Poe looked him over, an eyebrow raising slowly.

“Is it, aye? The way you two were hangin’ all over each other _really_ seemed casual,” Poe sniggered, chugging back a mouthful of his own drink, “Let me ask you this. If you could do anything if you didn’t have that big fancy job of yours, what would you do?” Ben stood quietly, his eyes moving as he thought, the metaphorical wheels turning.

“I’d stay,” he said suddenly, his face surprised by his own admission, “I…I think I’d stay,”

“Course you would!”

“Not that I know what I’d do,” he said, “I mean…that’s crazy right? I’ve known this girl less than a month,”

“When you know, you know,” Poe shrugged. He sipped thoughtfully, his eyes growing wide when an idea formed in his mind.

“What?” Ben questioned warily, not enjoying the conspiratorial smile that was growing on the smaller Scotsman’s face.

“What makes you different than everyone else here?”

“My height…”

“Other than your stupidly long legs. You are not Scottish!” Poe said.

“Worked that out all by yourself, huh?”

“Right, drink up buttercup!” Poe exclaimed, ignoring Ben’s sarcasm, “You are going to be thanking me by the end of the night!”

Ben had barely finished his pint when Poe was grabbing him by the arm, pulling him out of the tent and back out towards the games.

“Where are we going?!” Ben cried, still being pulled through the field by the determined native. Poe gave him no answers, content to lead him towards a tent selling what looked like traditional Highland wear.

“Rose! I got you a live one,” Poe called opening the flap of the tent. Inside the makeshift store, the canvas walls were lined with all colors of tartan, from blues and greens to bright reds and yellows. From behind a rack of shirts, a small Vietnamese girl stepped out.

“Ooft, well if it isn’t the American!” she smiled, “I’m Rose, nice to meet you!”

“Uh, hi,” Ben greeted.

“This man is going to his first ever ceilidh tonight and we need to get him looking the part,” Poe said. The smile on Rose’s face grew wider, “Rose here is the best!”

“All of our kilts are woven from 100% pure wool and we are going to make you look braw!” She said confidently, “Awright, let’s see what we’ve got,” she said, turning to look thoughtfully through her products.

“I don’t know if a kilt is really necessary…”

“You want to look the part? Get yer kilt on and drop yer trousers,” Rose smirked, stopping at a kilt of dark green and blue, “Oh yes, I think this will suit you perfectly,” Poe nodded, impressed.

“Black Watch. Nice choice,” he commented as Ben stood there, still mystified.

“This one isn’t connected to a family name really, it’s actually a tartan that the 42nd Highland Regiment wore. It’s got military history,” Rose explained, holding the kilt over Ben’s hips and examining the length, “It should fit but we can sort that better once you get it on. Hold this!” Rose shoved the kilt into Ben’s hand, “You’re going to need a sporran…”

“A what?!”

“A sporran!” Rose said, holding up the bag, “You wear it around yer belt!” Ben stared at the sporran intently. To him, it looked more like an absurd designer clutch bag crossed with a fanny pack.

“What…is it for?”

“Well, where else are ye going to keep your wallet?” Poe asked, “Not like you’re going to have pockets!”

“Because I’m wearing a skirt…”

“It’s not a skirt!” Rose snapped, “It’s a kilt. Don’t be so ignorant!” When Ben turned from Poe to face Rose, she was holding what looked like a small knife.

“Jesus, I’m sorry!” He said quickly. Rose frowned with confusion looking at Ben and then the knife, bursting into laughter. It did nothing to help Ben’s nerves.

“Relax, it’s just a sgian-dubh!”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” Ben cried. Rose held up the item. The handle was intricately carved with a large blue gem at the end of the hilt. On closer inspection, Ben could see that it wasn’t actually sharp and purely decorative.

“It’s a sgian-dubh. SKEE-EN-DOO. It’s a traditional part of Highland dress. Ye stick it down the side of your sock with just the handle showing. Should be worn on the same side as yer dominant hand!” Ben nodded, listening intently.

“Cool. Man, you guys go all out when you go traditional,” he smiled. Poe nodded.

“Just wait until Rose is done with you,” He said, “Rey isn’t going to know where to look. Now, I’ve got one important question to ask you,”

“What’s that?”

“Are you going to go true Scotsman?”

_Wait, what?_

00000

The hall was packed.

It was the same every year. The island residents would all try to cram into the one building until the air was thick with heat and sweat. Eventually, the celebrations would spill out into the streets, with even local law enforcement doing nothing to prevent it. As long as it was all in good spirits, they saw no harm.

Rey let out a string of ‘excuse me’, using her shoulders to push through the crowds from the bar to get back to her table, her hands both full of pint glasses.

“What took you so long?” Finn teased as she sat down, smoothing her black and red tartan skater dress.

“It’s a tad busy in here in case you hadn’t noticed!” she quipped, “If you think you’ll get served faster, you can go up next time!”

“Not a chance! Besides, it’s my birthday,” He grinned, lifting the pint, “Everyone can come to me! Speaking of, where is everyone?”

“Running late if they can even get in, I’d imagine,” Rey replied, “Last I saw Ben he’d been grabbed by Poe. Got a message to say they’d just meet us here instead,”

“Well, they better get a move on. The band looks like they’re about done warming up,”

He wasn’t wrong. She could hear the plucking of the fiddle strings, the rumbling of the snare drum, the accordion, the whistles, and guitar. Anxiety rolled in her stomach, a mixture of nerves and excitement all churning with the alcohol she’d already imbibed to calm her nerves.

“Can we have all the couples on the floor for our first dance of the evening, the Gay Gordons!” the caller announced, his accordion primed in his arm. Finn stood.

“Alright, I know I’m not Captain America…but it _is_ my birthday so come on, up!” He said, holding out his hand that Rey accepted. They walked onto the floor, Finn taking his place at her side in the traditional starting position as other couples joined them, the congregation of people creating a circle in the middle of the room.

The band began, the warm tones of the guitar and accordion filling the room. She could feel the vibrations of the dancers and the drums through the floor with every step she took, talking four steps forward in time with Finn before turning around to walk backward for four. Her skirt fluttered around her legs as she was twirled around the dancefloor

As she spun her eyes caught a glimpse of someone entering the room, standing taller than most of the party goers, gently pushing his way to the edge of the dancefloor. Rey stopped dead, Finn having to pull her into the middle of the circle before her motionless frame caused a crash of bodies.

Ben was standing at the end of the dancefloor, smiling at her softly, his dark eyes amber in the orange glow of the room. Now she knew what Poe had stolen him for. He was clad in a black ghillie shirt, the crisscrossed lacing at the front loose across his collar. The Black Watch tartan kilt hung casually down to his knees, paired with long black socks but kept casual with a pair of black Timberland boots. He’d even worn a sporran.

Rey looked at Finn with imploring eyes.

“Go on then…”

She smiled excitedly, kissing her friend on the cheek in thanks before skipping through the crowd, narrowing avoiding a collision once more with the dancers until she was standing in front of him. Ben smiled shyly.

“Well, you did say something about going native…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black Watch tartan is the kilt used in the mood board and was the tartan my husband wore for his kilt and plaid (the long fabric that hangs over the shoulder) on our wedding day.
> 
> Interesting facts about Black Watch - Black Watch isn't connected to any single family or clan. Alternatively known as Grant Hunting or Government tartan, Black Watch tartan was worn first by the six “watch” companies that once patrolled the Highlands. In 2006 all six army regiments that existed in Scotland were merged to form the Royal Regiment of Scotland. This new regiment was given the Government tartan as their own and is worn by Scottish soldiers all over the world.
> 
> It's not a family tartan, it's a military tartan which is why I decided to stick it on Ben. It's fairly communal.


	7. Bristeadh-cridhe (Heartbreak)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Aye, ye’ll do quite nicely. We’ll make a Scot out of ye yet!” She declared, “Now, who is buying this auld burd a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm finally getting round to updating this story which I'm totally kicking myself for because I loved writing this chapter and I've really missed this wee Scottish rom-com.
> 
> Thank you as always to you guys who are still reading, commenting, sharing and messaging. It genuinely means so much to me!

“Well, you did say something about going native,”

 

He was standing nervously in front of her, rocking on the balls of his feet, his hands fisted by his sides awaiting her final verdict and desperately hoping she approved.

 

Rey wore the brightest smile, eyes glimmering in the lamp lights of the hall while the dancers twirled behind them. 

 

“You look incredible!” She gushed, her face still awestruck. Ben visibly relaxed, his shoulders softening while the tension drained out of his smile.

 

“It was Poe’s idea,” he said bashfully, “That girl, Rose, put it all together,”

 

“She knows her stuff,” Rey agreed, “Ready to dance? The song will be changing soon!”

 

Ben warily looked past her to the dance floor. The steps looked simple enough but what about the next dance? He’d never been blessed with natural grace and since he’d already taken a chance with the outfit, he wasn’t keen to make a fool of himself.

 

“Come on, it’s easy I promise!” Rey urged, “The band will take you through the steps. Everyone is pretty forgiving,” she chuckled lightheartedly but Ben still didn’t look so sure.

 

She didn’t give him time to consider the worst-case scenario, grabbing his hand to pull him onto the floor.

 

“Dancers, grab yer partners for strip the willow!”

 

“What the what now?” Ben asked bewildered, allowing Rey to place him in the line of men. She stood opposite him, the partners making two lines along the floor facing each other. Ben and Rey stood second to the top of the line.

 

“When the music starts, the first couple at the top grab hands and spin one direction for a count of eight, then the other way. Then they make their way down the line spinning with the other partners until they get to the bottom,”

 

“What happens at the bottom?”

 

“They spin for eight again, while the next couple at the top, that’s us, start a new reel,”

 

She was speaking gibberish, he was sure of it. Still, he watched curiously as the band struck up, the first couple doing exactly as Rey had described, clenching hands into one large mound and spinning rapidly to the beat of the music. 

 

“Get it now?” She smiled. Ben nodded uncertainty.

 

“I think so,” he replied, offering a lopsided, anxious grin in return.

 

Their turn quickly arrived, Ben finding himself hauled forward by Rey grabbing his hands, leaning backward as they spun to add tension and speed to the movement. People cheered and clapped for the American throwing himself headfirst into their culture and Ben, for all his nerves, began to relax in the knowledge they were laughing with him as opposed to at him.

 

Once or twice he had to look to Rey or another dancer for direction but by the time they’d reached the bottom of the line, he was thinking less about the steps and more about the beautiful Scottish woman opposite him.

 

And the fact he was rapidly running out of breath. 

 

By the time the dance ended, Ben was panting.

 

“We’ll need to work on your ceilidh stamina!” Rey laughed, her own cheeks flushed with exertion and the heat of the packed room. “Fresh air?”

 

“God yes!” 

 

“Oh no! Not until I’ve had my way with him!” A familiar voice cried, Maz hobbling towards them with all the enthusiasm of a hunting badger. 

 

At a loss for words and desperately begging Rey for help with his eyes alone, Maz grabbed his forearm in her bony yet remarkably strong grip, dragging him back onto the floor.

 

“Nae need to be gentle with me son, it isnae ma first time!”

 

Dancing with Maz was not like dancing with Rey. Rey was understanding of his shortcomings like not completely knowing the steps while Maz smelled of expensive scotch and was happy to try and throw him around the floor like a wet flannel. 

 

Or at least she would have had there not been a considerable height difference.

 

“Don't worry pal, she does it to all of us!” Finn called, twirling past them with Rose in his arms. 

 

The dance ended and Ben felt thoroughly violated. Maz shot him a toothy grin.

 

“Aye, ye’ll do quite nicely. We’ll make a Scot out of ye yet!” She declared, “Now, who is buying this auld burd a drink?”

 

A local held his arm for her, the old woman patting Ben on his sweaty cheek and toddling away in the direction of the bar.

 

“Congratulations, Maz must like you,” Rey said, approaching him as he leaned on his kilt-clad knees, trying to gain his breath through the stifling air.

 

“Really? That’s what she does if she likes people? Jesus, what does she do if she doesn’t?!” 

 

“She certainly wouldn’t ask them to dance,” Rey said proudly, “Come on, I think you’ve earned that fresh air!”

 

Looping her arm in his, she led him out of the dance hall, pushing past the merry locals whose blood alcohol level was rising by the minute.

 

_ Scot’s know how to party… _

 

The sky had darkened considerably when they escaped the confines of the dance hall, an inky blackness dotted with glimmering lights greeting them. Others had the same idea, partygoers needing a rest from the dancing and heat sitting on benches, stolen chairs and the old stone wall surrounding the building. B.B. had taken to leaning over the wall, relishing the attention he was being given with scratches to his fluffy head.

 

The clear sky while beautiful made way for a cool evening, the breezing bringing prickles to their skin as she walked with him hand in hand, both ignoring the curious looks from the people (and cow) nearby.

 

“Let’s walk,” Rey suggested, enjoying the opportunity to breathe clearly and the heat of his large hand around hers.

 

“Nice night,” Ben commented lightly, breaking the easy silence between them. The party was far away but the sounds of merriment could still be heard, “You guys really know how to throw a party!”

 

“Glad you like it. I meant what I said by the way you look...incredible,” she breathed, her eyes looking him up and down even in the moonlight. “Like you belong here,”

 

“Maybe I do,” Ben said, his sincerity causing Rey to stop her walk.

 

“Do...do you mean that?” Her eyes were wide, pleading for an honest answer. Ben nodded.

 

“I do,” he said softly, “I mean…it’s just an idea, I guess it’s kind of impulsive but, I’m not really ready to go and there’s no real reason I couldn’t stay for another week...month…”

 

“Your job? Your life in America?” Rey prompted.

 

“What life? I...I don’t get any satisfaction from my job. I have a shell of an apartment that I never spend any time in,”

 

Rey stared at him thoughtfully, a small frown forming between her brows as she pondered what he was saying. 

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Yeah, I’m serious,” he said decisively, “I just...you don’t have to answer now or make any big decisions, I’m just sayi-“

 

The end of his sentence, his words were swallowed by her kiss, Rey throwing herself at his body with such force he was almost bowled over. He grasped her waist, her feet dangling above the ground as she locked her arms around his neck. 

 

She tasted of honeyed wine, intoxicating and sweet, her hair like the heather in the air and he knew, he knew, there was no going back. 

 

New York could keep its skyscrapers, its all go no stop attitude to life and opulence because when it came down to it, life was actually simple.

 

“How far is your place?”

 

00000

 

Fuck the ceilidh. It could wait and as far as he was concerned, everyone was getting so hammered anyway that nobody would miss them.

 

Despite Maz’s cottage being closer and the blood rapidly diverting to other parts of his body, Ben at least had the sense to encourage them back to Rey’s more isolated home. There was no way he wanted an awkward tryst on that rickety bed, let alone the mortification of the next morning when Maz would find them there.

 

Frantic hands pulled at clothing as they barrelled through the front door, almost stumbling over the step of the threshold, the fumble breaking their kiss but offering enough separation for Rey to pull her dress overhead.

 

A trail of clothes leading from the door to her bedroom, Ben’s kilt the only thing left on his body. Rey halted, kneeling on the bed he’d thrown her onto in nothing but her panties. Her teeth worried her kiss flushed lips, eyes shamelessly looking him up and down from his broad chest to the adonis belt of his muscles that disappeared below the wool hugging his hips.

“Now the million-pound question!” she teased, watching him move with deliberate slowness towards the leather straps at his side. Suddenly Rey shook her head, “Wait, leave the kilt on,”

 

His hands stopped, the smile on her face only growing wider with the disbelief on his face.

 

“You know, this is a rental,” he said, “Rose will kill me if we get  _ something _ on it,”

 

“I’ll kill you if you don’t get a move on,” Rey fired back, her playfulness being overtaken by a burning need to have him inside her as soon as possible. 

 

He grasped the bottom of the kilt, pulling it up with a proud, almost smug, smile. His solid manhood stood proud, unencumbered by something as pesky as underwear.

 

“You actually did it!” Rey squealed, Ben joining in her laughter, dropping the fabric to pounce. His body covered hers, kissing her soundly while his weight held her against the bed. Any hilarity melted under his touch, his tongue skillfully tracing her lower lip, his hands holding her by the wrists as he rolled his hips against hers.

 

The fabric added an extra layer of friction, tingling against her skin. She could feel him below the kilt, hot and hard for her, their writhing bodies only driving the anticipation higher until she felt like a pot ready to boil over.

 

“Ben, please,” she breathed, her panties soaked for him while she clenched around nothing. She sounded so sweet, lying back on the bed, chest heaving as she begged him for more and who was he to deny her anything?

 

His hand gripped her underwear firmly, tugging the fabric away with a sharp pull, not caring if it was ripped or not. He’d buy her a new pair, he’d buy her anything she wanted as long as she was his. Hiking the kilt up, he encouraged her legs around his waist, the head of him pushing past her soaked slit, teasing her entrance while he gazed down at her face, her body, desperate to memorize every detail.

 

Heels digging into the back of his thighs urged him on, his head dropping to her collarbone with a long, low, groan as she took all of him to the hilt, her slicked walls pulsing around him while her hands fisted in his hair.

 

He was going to make this last, dragging himself back slowly only to snap his hips forward with a force that rocked her up the bed. Any idea of tenderness was lost, her nails digging into his forearms with every cry that left her lips.

  
“Fuck, you’re perfect baby. You’re so fucking perfect,” he ground out, sitting back on his knees to slam into her again and again, moving the kilt away to watch where his fat cock disappeared, her body stretching like she was made for him. 

“Tell me,” she panted between moans, “Tell me that you’re staying…”

 

He slowed, pushing hard and deep with every roll of his body, leaning forward to capture her lips.

 

“I’m staying,” he whispered, “I promise, I’m staying,” 

 

He could feel her smile against his mouth, her teeth nipping at his lip, goading him on.

 

“Prove it,”

 

She laid the challenge, whining when he suddenly pulled from her, only for Ben to grab her hips turning her onto her front. She could feel the wool of the kilt spreading across her back as he gripped her, sliding easily into her waiting cunt and immediately setting a punishing pace.

 

One knee on the bed, the other propped up, he fucked her roughly, Rey moaning loudly into the pillow she was being pushed into, her chest practically flush to the mattress. 

 

“I’m staying,” he panted, “I’m staying,”

 

His voice, his body, the relentless way he drove into her building the pressure until every nerve was burning with a need for release. 

 

“You wanna cum for me, baby? Do it, let me hear you,” he commanded, still working her raw, the debauched sound of bodies colliding filling the room.

 

Her thighs trembled, his arm around her body the only thing preventing her from collapsing to the bed as her orgasm broke, pleasure filling every cell in her body while he fucked her through it, prolonging the sensation until he came, his cum warming her inside, spilling to her inner thigh.

 

Spent and sated, he held her, carefully pulling out to fall to his side, pulling her against his chest as he peppered her sweat covered skin with featherlight kisses.

 

“I’m staying,” 

 

00000

 

Something was buzzing. 

 

Along with the buzzing was an obnoxious ringing sound that he’d grown to dread. Opening his eyes, he could see that daylight hadn’t quite broken yet and the woman in his arms was still fast asleep.

 

She wouldn’t be for long the way his damn phone was ringing. 

 

As gently as he could he released her, pulling the duvet over her naked body as he slid from the bed, still adorned in his now corrupted kilt. He’d answer the phone. He’d go back to bed. Quickly, he tiptoed out into the hallway, finding his sporran somewhere in the middle of the stairs. He grabbed his phone, the voice on the other end louder than he expected.

 

“Solo, finally! Getting hold of you has been a bloody nightmare!” Hux’s voice sounded over the speaker, “For some reason, my number hasn’t been getting through,”

 

“Hmm. Weird,” Ben said dryly, “What do you need?”

 

“You’re due back to us in a few days, how is the deal progressing?” Hux demanded. Ben looked around, moving quickly to sit on the bottom step.

 

“It’s...fine,”

 

“Fine? What does ‘fine’ mean do you have the deal sealed or not?”

 

“I mean it’s fine, the deal is fine. When I get back home I’m going to speak to Snoke myself about it,”

 

“You don’t  _ need _ to speak to Snoke. That’s my job!” Hux snarled down the line, “Have you signed a deal or not?”

 

“Look, I’ve got to know Rey Lamont pretty well while I’ve been here and there’s nothing to report about the deal over the phone. I’m coming back to the office and I’ll make my report in person,”

 

“What deal?”

 

The third voice caught him off guard, Ben almost dropping the phone in fright. Standing at the top of the stairs, dressed in his shirt from the night before was Rey, her hair disheveled with sleep and her eyes hurt.

 

“Rey…”

 

“What  _ deal _ ?” She demanded again. Ben jumped up from the step turning to her, shaking his head as he hung up the phone.

 

“No deal, there is no deal!” he insisted. Rey regarded him warily, her arms wrapping around her body like a protective shield.

 

“Really? Doesn’t sound like it. Was that your office? Your boss?” she pressed, stepping down past him to pace the living room.

 

“I...Yes, alright, it was but it’s not the way it sounds,” Ben said, “I was going to talk to you when you woke up…”

 

“About what? How you’re still trying to buy my company?” She snapped, “Oh my God, is that what this is?” she gestured between them.

 

“No! I…alright, when I came to see you the day after we first met I wanted to talk to you, to see if we could maybe come to an agreement…” he confessed, watching helplessly as tears pooled in her eyes, his own vision growing damp.

 

“I can’t believe this…”

 

“But then I got to know you,” he cried, rushing to her, trying in vain to get her to look at him, her head turning away from his touch, “And I got to know how strong you are, how kind and amazing and I...I don’t want that anymore, I don’t! I’m staying, remember?”

 

“You used me!” she shouted, pushing him away, “You only wanted to know me to try and get a business deal!”

 

“That’s not true!”

 

“Get out…”

 

Ben stopped dead, staring at her in disbelief, trying to pretend that he didn’t hear her. The cold mistrust in her eyes was so far from the warmth she’d shown him the night before when she’d gazed at him in the ceilidh hall with pride.

 

“Rey, please…”

  
“Get out!” she shouted this time, her voice cracking, “Go home, Ben,”

 

She shoved past him, making for the stairs. He reached for her arm, her slender wrist pulling violently away from his touch as his chest constricted painfully.

 

“I love you,”

 

He meant it. It wasn’t a ploy, or a plan to get her to change her mind. It wasn’t a bandage to cover whatever wound he’d unwillingly inflicted. It was the truth. She stopped at the top of the stairs, flinching at his declaration, squeezing her eyes tightly while her tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Go home, Ben,”

 

Her final words to him were punctuated by the slamming of the bedroom door.

 

Faintly, as he gathered his things that littered the house, he could hear her crying.


	8. Ri chèile (Together)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Oh my God, this is what it feels like to have a tiny bit of free time!
> 
> There will be an epilogue for this story.

[](https://imgur.com/X3tBqdv)

New York was cold.

 

Not cold like the Isle of Lewis. The island had fresh wind coming from the water, caressing the grass to blow the scent of flowers and salt through the air. It was invigorating, soothing in a way. When the sun shone the landscape was awash with greens and blues, rainbows from wildflowers and the paleness of the sands. 

 

New York was grey. Wall to wall buildings that had lost their grandeur in his eyes. He remembered once how he’d walk and marvel at the structures, wondering how anyone would want to live anywhere else. Now, all the sun did was highlight how colorless his home really was. 

 

It wasn’t just the temperature or the weather. New York, he’d come to see, was cold in other ways. On Lewis, people, complete strangers smiled at him. They bid him good morning and stopped for idle chatter. It was something that had been so foreign to him before but walking along the streets, nobody batted an eye at him and he felt almost lonely. Nobody smiled or greeted him. They shuffled along, going about their business because it was New York City, everyone was constantly busy and who the fuck had time to make nice with a stranger?

 

He used to be like that.

 

He’d tried to get her to talk to him before he left. He’d returned to her home, he’d brought flowers and left them by her doorstep, hammering on the door while he begged for an audience. Nothing worked. Eventually, Finn had appeared for his morning shift, a hard look in his eye that told Ben the man had already been informed.

 

“I think it’s best you just go,” he’d said. The look on Finn’s face hadn’t matched the sadness in his voice and Ben realized, with pain, that Rey now wasn’t the only one he’d hurt. The friend’s he’d made, the way he’d portrayed his longing to be part of their world, while Ben knew it was completely sincere, they all thought it had been an act.

 

Just more people he’d hurt along the way.

 

Returning to his apartment was just another reminder of how empty things were. The place was minimally furnished, having decided he was never really home long enough to make it a home in the first place. Hell, some of his things were still packed in boxes from when he’d first moved in years ago. It wasn’t a home, it was a place to sleep, wash and pack for leaving again.

 

White walls met plain wood floors and muted furniture. He shuffled his weary, well-traveled body into his bedroom, sitting down on the bed to pull out his phone.

 

“Hey, it’s me,” he sighed, “I just got home and I know you don’t want to speak to me but...I have to keep trying. You’re probably asleep now or...Rey, I’m sorry,”

It was one of many messages he’d left her and he was surprised that her mailbox wasn’t already full. Had she listened to any of them? Would she ever? Rey was smart and stubborn, if he had to take a guess, he’d suppose that she’d delete them all and never think twice about him again.

 

He was a story to tell, a fling went wrong.

 

He didn’t feel that way. Not now he’d tasted the sweetness of a different life, a better life with family and friends and someone he loved. There was no fireplace here, no tiny bed or obnoxious wildlife. There were only himself and the four blank walls around him. 

 

No, this wasn’t the end. Frowning in determination, he stood to grab his essentials, storming out the door.

 

00000

 

“Mr. Snoke will see you now,”

 

Ben had been standing staring out the window on the 55th floor of the First Order headquarters. The floor to ceiling windows gave a beautiful view but he knew that wasn’t the real reason for Snoke keeping his office on the top floor.

 

The old bastard liked to be higher than everyone, to feel like he owned the world.

 

_ Arrogant prick… _

 

He thanked the receptionist with a polite nod, walking through the door to the opulent office. Snoke sat behind his desk, his hands clasped in front of him.

 

“Mr. Solo, I didn’t expect you so soon considering you only just landed a few hours ago,” he said smoothly. His grey hair was slicked back in the same style he’d worn for the past thirty years, the buttons gleaming on his pinstripe, double-breasted suit. 

 

“I figured you’d want to see me straight away,” Ben replied coolly. 

 

“You were right. Would you please explain to me why you spent all this time on an island in the middle of nowhere only to return  _ without  _ a signed contract?”

 

“They didn’t want to sell,”

 

“Since when has that stopped you before?” Snoke said sharply, leaning forward on the desk, “I believe you’re losing your touch,”

 

“Sometimes people don’t want to give up their business, their lives. It’s not really up to you to decide,”

 

Snoke smiled, cold and calculating, pinning Ben with an inquisitive stare.

 

“You have compassion for her,”

 

Ben straightenedhis back, his jaw tightly clenched fighting to keep his composure.

 

“I do,” he said firmly. Snoke nodded, pushing himself back from the desk to stand, circling the lavish furniture slowly like an animal circling prey.

 

“When I first found you, I saw what all mentors lived to see. Raw talent, ready to be refined. Now you come back to me, bested by a girl who has never set foot in a boardroom. You failed!” He shouted, his voice echoing off the floor to ceiling windows.

 

“Fuck you!”

 

Snoke recoiled as if he’d been slapped, his eyes wide and incredulous, staring at his protege with horror.

 

“What did you say to me?!”

 

He could take it back, throw himself down and apologize for the outburst. But he wasn’t sorry, not in the slightest and there was no turning back.

 

“You heard me, you old fuck. For years you’ve sent me out to do your dirty work, making  _ you _ money and ruining the lives of people you gave no choice to. Either they sold up, or you drove them out of business,”

 

“That, my boy, is how business works,”

 

“No! That’s how  _ you  _ work and I don’t want any part of it!”

 

“You’re throwing away a golden opportunity here, you do know that,”

 

“No, there’s nothing for me here anymore,” Ben declared confidently, “Best of luck in your future endeavors!”

 

“Solo, don’t you dare walk away from me. Solo? Solo!”

 

Ben had already turned his back on him, striding from the office with an assured smile on his face, the expression only growing with every step out of the building.

 

00000

 

“So I was thinking we could experiment with a Christmas edition of our brand? Use elements of clementine? Maybe some spices like cinnamon? Rey? Rey, are you evening listening to me?” Finn asked impatiently across the desk of her office. Rey turned from where she’d been staring out of the window.

 

“Christmas, clementine, cinnamon...yeah, I heard you,” she mumbled quietly. 

 

Finn sighed, dropping his notepad on the desk. They’d discussed most of the essential business without too much issue, but whenever there was a lull in the conversation, it was obvious her mind was elsewhere.

 

“Hey, Rose is making a pot roast tonight? She wanted me to ask if you fancied coming for tea?” He asked hopefully.

 

Rey shook her head.

 

“No thanks, think I’m just going to have a quiet one,” she answered.

 

“You’ve had nothing but ‘quiet ones’ since he left,” Finn pointed out, “Peanut, you know, I really don’t think it’s all as obvious as it looks,”

 

“How does it look? Like he was using me to try and sneak my company away? Because that’s how it seems to me!” She said shortly. Finn smiled sadly.

 

“I don’t think you believe that,”

 

Rey turned again to look out the window, anything to avoid Finn’s eyes. If she looked at him, she’d start crying again. Not that it helped. Moisture began to pool in her eyes, spilling over her lashes. She wiped them away quickly.

 

“I just...I’m so confused. I thought I was a good judge of people and now I don’t know what we even were,”

 

“Seems to me like he loves you,” 

 

The statement was so flippant, so easy from his mouth that Rey’s gaze snapped back to him, silently needing further explanation. 

 

“He turns up and you hand him his arse,” Finn continued, “He could easily have just gone home then and there, but he stayed, and yeah maybe it was because he wanted to try and convince you, but the whole time you two were together, did he ever talk about work? Or your business?”

 

“No,” Rey said sullenly. It was true, after the initial meeting and his apology, he’d never once mentioned anything close to the business. Finn nodded, satisfied.

 

“So he stays, he keeps on living in that cottage, getting to know not just you, but everyone here! Hells bells, he even let Rose have her way with him and turned up to the ceilidh in full dress. No, there’s no way that’s just for a business deal,”

 

Rey hugged a sigh, running her hand through her hair.

 

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s gone. He’s not coming back,” she said, “And we have work to do!”

 

“Rey,”

 

“Those shipments won’t double check themselves,”

 

“Rey…”

 

“And I need to speak to the designer about the new bottle labels, I don’t know about you but I really wasn’t into the silver leaf on there,”

 

“ _ Rey _ !”

 

She stopped where she’d stood, Finn’s outburst catching her off guard. Really she was grateful. Her mind was trying to spiral, to push her work to the forefront so she didn’t have to focus on how large his absence really was.

 

“Do you love him?”

 

Finn sat patiently, without judgment, watching her lip tremble.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

00000

 

It was strange to him how mood could change his perception of things.

 

The first time he’d made this journey it had been a torturous experience. From JFK to Iceland to Glasgow, crammed into a plane with people he didn’t care to know and who had no concept of personal space, even in business class. Then finally crammed into a flying tin can to go to a remote Scottish Island he’s never heard of.

 

This time it was different. He wasn’t going out of obligation, he was going because he wanted to. Flying towards the horizon finally felt like hope, anxiety twisting his stomach in knots with every mile covered.

 

It could all go wrong. He could land and be treated like an outcast, the warm Scottish hospitality he’d come to love could be replaced with cold indifference. He wouldn’t blame them. She’d told him once about how gossip traveled and there was no doubt in his mind that everyone would know what happened.

 

But he had to try.

 

The tiny plane landed with a bump, speeding along the runway until it came to a precarious stop. Stepping outside, Ben smiled. The salt in the air lit his senses. For the first time in weeks, he felt awake, focused.

 

It was a shame this was as far as his plan ran.

 

Step one was quitting his job, step two was booking his travel and returning to Scotland as soon as was feasible. Step three? He hadn’t really gotten round to step three. 

 

Grabbing his duffel bag of essentials, Ben made his way to the front of the tiny airport and the taxi rank, jumping into the first that was free.

 

“Oh, yer back, aye?” the driver said, his sarcasm somewhat grating. Ben had expected this, but not from the first person he encountered.

 

_ Everyone knows everyone… _

 

“Uh, yeah. Hi,” he said uncomfortably, “I’m heading to…” 

 

Where  _ was _ he heading to? To Rey’s home? Was it really wise to go straight to her door, unwashed after 36 hours worth of traveling with a bag and a hopeful look on his face? To do this, he needed to test the waters first and there was more than one person he felt he owed an apology to.

 

“Take me into town please,”

 

00000

 

Dameron’s store was just as he remembered it. The smell of wax jackets and wilderness wool penetrated the place and gave him and odd sense of relaxation. The bell rang above the door, Poe emerging from the back with a cheery smile on his face that soon faltered when he spotted who had come in.

 

“Hey, what can I- Well I’ll be damned, if it isn’t Ben Solo,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “Didn’t think I’d be seeing your face here again,”

 

“Hey Poe, it’s good to see you,”

 

“I wish I could say the same,” Poe snorted, “You know, you upset quite a few people!”

 

“It’s not what they think,” Ben insisted, venturing further into the shop towards the other man, his face sincere, “I...I didn’t mean to upset anyone and I wasn’t deceiving people. They’ve got it all wrong,”

 

Poe regarded him carefully, his narrow eyes reading Ben’s face like an open book. Abruptly he sighed, relaxing his body and running his hand through his salt and peppered hair.

 

“Ach, you know I really hoped you’d say that. I like to think I’m a good judge of character,” he smiled, “Besides, I suppose it’s really not me you need to convince and I assume that’s why you’re back?”

 

“Yes, I need to speak to Rey, I just...I don’t know how to go about it,”  Poe raised a brow, almost amused by the statement.

 

“You go up to her...and you talk to her…” he said simply, “Honestly, you American’s make things so complicated! Communication, pal. Ye need some communication!”

 

“So, that’s it?”

 

“That’s it. Come on, I’ll drive,”

 

“We’re going now?!” Ben cried. Poe nodded.

 

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you had somewhere better to be. Joining the fishing boats perhaps?”

 

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” Ben grumbled, following Poe out towards his Jeep.

 

Ben climbed into the passenger's side, the vehicle roaring to life with a turn of the key.

 

“Do you think she knows I’m coming?” he asked uncertainly.

 

“Well, you got a taxi into town so odds are that driver has told someone who’ll tell someone else and so on, but hey, maybe you’ll get lucky and the chain won’t have reached her yet!”

 

“Great,” Ben said sarcastically, the Jeep bumping along the uneven roads.

 

“Don’t feel so down, you know for all there was gossip about it, people were more sad than angry,” Poe said. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Oh aye! Rey is well liked and since her Dad passed, people have always just wanted the best for the wee lass. The old wummin down the road, they thought it was all very romantic. Good looking American chap swooping in and all that,”

 

“It’s wasn’t quite that,” Ben said regretfully, “I can’t take back how I got here,”

 

“No, but you can set the record straight and keep giving those wee grannies something to talk about!” Poe laughed, “If you like, I can even drum up an audience for your big apology speech,” 

 

Ben paled.

 

“Please God no,” he said quickly, “That sounds...awful,”

 

“Hate to break it to you, but it might happen whether you like it or not!” Poe pointed out, the Jeep coming to a halt outside the distillery. To Ben’s dismay, the place was bustling with life, workers carrying out their day to day duties from pouring to packing. As he shut the car door, he realized Poe had stepped out with him.

 

“You’re coming?”

 

“What? Think I was going to shut my shop, drive you out here and not see how this ends? Unlikely!”

 

“Fine, whatever,” Ben muttered impatiently. 

 

People stopped in their tracks, staring at the American as he walked with purpose towards the main building, whispering amongst themselves. When he pushed his way inside, Finn was the first person he met.

 

“Ben?!”

 

“Finn, I need to speak to Rey,” Ben insisted quickly. He’d expected Finn to be angry with him, to scowl at him or even hit him, but all the man did was smile widely.

“Brilliant, but, uh, Rey’s not here right now,”

 

“You’re fucking kidding…”

 

“She isn’t far! She just headed down to The Claymore to speak to Akbar about orders,” he said confidently, “She’ll be back in maybe a half hour?” Ben shook his head. His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing in his system. It was fight or flight and he’d never felt more ready to fight in his life.

 

“No, fuck this, I’m not waiting. I’m going now,”

 

“Fucking right ye are!” Finn exclaimed. Ben turned to leave, the other men hot on his heels. 

 

They left the main building with purpose, Ben striding forward, Finn and Poe behind him. Kaydel ran up alongside Finn, struggling to keep up with their frantic pace.

 

“What’s going on?!” she demanded.

 

“Ben’s going to talk to Rey!”

 

“Oh my God!”

 

The walk wasn’t long and Ben was too pent up with energy now to stop his forward motion, marching down the road towards the village, the old white building of the pub ahead of him in the distance. Behind him, he could barely hear Kaydel’s excited chatter to Finn as she joined in the march.

 

It was ridiculous really, locals asking a follower behind him what the situation was, suddenly joining with interest when they were told. Apparently, there was very little to do on a random Tuesday afternoon and this was the most excitement they’d seen in a very long time. 

 

Like the pied piper of the Isle of Lewis, Ben continued towards the pub, a trail of people following him. 

 

_ If the cow turns up… _

 

By the time they arrived, the tiny village of Achmore was buzzing with anticipation, people poking their heads out of doorways and windows to see what the commotion was. There was no way he’d get a private audience with her now, not when so many wanted to see the outcome of his arrival. The Thistle and Claymore pub door was already open, friendly and inviting as always with BB the cow happily munching in the front gardens.

 

“Oh good, you’re here,” Ben drawled, but there was affection somewhere behind the comment.

He stopped outside the door, a flock of people behind him all speaking in hushed whispers and excited titters. 

 

_ Now or never Solo… _

 

He pushed his way inside far more gracefully than the herd bottlenecking themselves trying to all fit through the front door at once, bewildering the residents who were blissfully ignorant to the commotion Ben Solo’s arrival had caused.

 

Rey had been standing at the bar, deep in conversation with Akbar when the ruckus behind her made her body turn, her eyes wide at the sight of Ben standing there, the people of Achmore behind him like a deranged chorus line.

 

“Ben?!”

 

“Oi! Oot ma way and let an auld wummin through, I canny see!” Maz’s voice piped up, the tiny old woman shoving her was past to the front of the crowd. Rey faltered, staring between Maz, Ben and the rest of the people all watching on.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Ben stepped forward to separate himself from the pack, his mouth dry and throat tight. There was no step 3. If there had been it certainly wouldn’t have involved an audience but he was there now, there was nowhere to go. 

 

She was real and just as beautiful as his memory of her, albeit staring at him as if he’d just crawled from the sea with two heads.

 

“I quit my job!” he blurted out inelegantly, the words feeling too large for his tongue to get around.

 

“You...you what!?”

 

“I quit my job,” He repeated, “Rey, I’m so sorry that I hurt you. You are beautiful and smart and so,  _ so _ , far out of my league…”

 

“He’s got a point,” Poe quipped quietly to Finn behind him.

 

“But you have opened up a bigger world to me and I promise to make it up to you for the rest of my life if you’ll accept my apology. This place, these people...I promised that I was going to stay and I meant it,” he said sincerely, “I love you,”

 

Rey stood speechless, her eyes welling from the overwhelming emotions coursing through her body. Her heart pounded, her head throbbed and she was sure if she didn’t keep her eyes on his that the room would start spinning.

 

“Everyone leaves,” she said quietly, “This life, it’s not for everyone. Friends, family, eventually...everyone leaves so why would you be different?”

 

“Because everything I’ve ever wanted is right here,” he said, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. To a chorus of elated gasps, Ben dropped to one knee, “Rey, will you marry me?”

 

Nestled in the silken bed of a Tiffany’s box was a diamond ring, a simple oval cut without any frills or curls that would make it ostentatious. Rey stared at the box, then at Ben, her mouth hanging dumbstruck.

 

“I…”

 

“If you don’t marry him, ah will!” Maz cried, the crowd waiting on tenterhooks for her answer. She sniffed her tears back, nodding slowly.

 

“Okay,”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Yes!” she smiled widely, “I’ll marry you!”

 

Leaping to his feet, the cheers that erupted practically shaking the beams of the old, rustic building, he swept her into his arms, finally feeling complete after the emptiness he’d been struck by when he’d left. Pulling back, she whispered against his lips.

 

“I love you too,”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I do the ol' hero coming back to propose in front of a crowd that followed him through the town to watch trope? 
> 
> You're damn right I did.


	9. Dòigh beatha (Lifestyle, Way of life)

“Keep those eyes closed,”

 

“What if I walk into something?”

 

“You won’t, I promise,”

 

His hands covered her eyes, his forearms resting gently over her shoulders as he carefully guided her from the elevator towards his surprise destination. He could feel her trying to move her head to look around, the early evening air stimulating her senses and teasing their location.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“You are so impatient!” Ben laughed, “Just a few steps forward...and...okay, open them!”

 

He dropped his hands, Rey opening her eyes to the view in front of her. New York sprawled before her, the sky a blended canvas of pinks, oranges and purples as the sun began to set over the horizon.

 

“Oh My God!” She gasped, “Ben, this is amazing!”

 

“I’m  _ so _ glad you’re not afraid of heights!” he said, relieved, “And that you like it. Top of the rock is my favorite way to see the city, it’s so much less chichéd than the Empire State building!”

 

They had married barely six weeks after his, now legendary, public declaration of love. If he’d had his way, they’d have married the very next day but Rey had gently reminded him that while he was free of his job, there was the small matter of visa issues and immigration. Six weeks, thousands of pounds and a few favors from some legal contacts and finally they were allowed to marry.

 

“I’m not afraid of heights,” she said somewhat childishly. Ben wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek.

 

“Well, I can be forgiven for erring on the side of caution,” he shrugged. She knew he was referring to the flights.

 

Rey hadn’t really traveled often while she’d been growing up. The furthest away from the Island she’d been was the Scottish mainland, the biggest city she’d seen was Glasgow. For all her bravado, when Ben had told her he wanted to take her to New York for their honeymoon so she could see his home, she’d approached the idea with trepidation.

 

The flight, while smooth, had been tense. The relatively short journey from Glasgow to Iceland had her digging her nails into poor Ben’s forearm the whole way. For the longer portion to JFK, Rey had decided taking half a sleeping pill to help her drift off was the best option.

 

Ben had watched with a degree of satisfaction as her eyes grew wide watching the city pass by from the comfort of the town car he’d arranged. The lights, the vast towering structures, the sheer volume of people was like nothing she’d ever experienced. 

 

“Are you sure you want to sell your flat here?” She asked, leaning on the railing with Ben at her back. He nodded firmly.

 

“I do,” he confirmed, “I don’t need it anymore,”

 

“But what if you want to come back?”

 

“Then we’ll get a hotel…” he shrugged but Rey shook her head.

 

“No, I...I don’t mean for a holiday or anything, I mean...what if you...what if you change your mind?” She mumbled shyly. Ben sighed, turning her around to face him.

 

“Rey, look at me,” he commanded gently, “It’s you and me now, we’re a team. You’re not alone,”

 

“Neither are you,” she smiled, gladly accepting his sweet kiss under the sunset.

 

“Besides, Mrs. Solo, you’ve said the vows. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” he quipped, Rey turning back to watch the city miles below them. She snuggled back against his chest, inhaling deeply to sigh with contentment.

 

“God, I hope whatever children we have don’t end up with one of those weird hybrid accents…” Rey pondered out loud, “How strange would that be?”

 

“No stranger than being woken up by a cow every morning,” Ben grumbled. 

 

Having returned to the Isle of Lewis and essentially moved into Rey’s home, Ben had not expected BB to be such a frequent visitor considering Rey lived outside of the village. Imagine his surprise when he’d wandered down to the kitchen one morning only to find the highland cow waiting for him in the garden. 

 

“He likes you! Take it as a compliment,” she laughed. She turned, looping her arms around his neck, “Ready to go?” 

 

Ben kissed her gently.

 

“Let’s go home,” 

 

**5 Years Later**

 

“Mr. Moo! Come here, Mr. Moo!” 

 

BB barely raised his head from the grass he was chewing, glancing at the impatient 4-year-old with soft eyes before continuing his meal. Hope pouted, crossing her little arms over her chest, scowling at the animal.

 

“Daddy! Mr. Moo won’t play with me!” She bellowed, Ben, emerging from the main building to scoop his daughter into his arms.

 

“I should hope not! Hope, BB isn’t a toy okay. He’s a living, breathing animal with a mind of his own and he could easily hurt you,” he chastised gently, carrying her back inside to his office.

 

It had taken Ben a while to work out what he wanted to do once they’d returned to Scotland as a married couple. Money wasn’t really an issue, he’d invested his sizable pay from First Order wisely but he didn’t want to be useless.

 

With some convincing on Rey’s part, she convinced him that having a full-time lawyer on staff wouldn’t be the worst idea. In the end, it was the best decision he’d ever made.

 

Aside from proposing, that is.

 

“He wouldn’t hurt me!” The four-year-old cried indignantly. Ben pressed a kiss to her temple, sitting her down on the chair opposite his desk.

 

“No, he wouldn’t on purpose but he’s a strong animal and accidents happen,” he explained patiently, “Now sit tight, I’ll be finished in five minutes. I promise,”

 

“ _ Then _ will you take me to ‘Rebels’?” She asked, smiling and bouncing on the chair with excited, pent up energy.

 

“Then I will take you to Rebels,” Ben promised.

 

_ God knows why Dameron called it that… _

 

When Poe had finally settled down with Kaydel, having a son of their own, he’d been convinced to start a children’s club to occupy the growing number of youngsters. ‘The Rebels’ as he called them were taught about all kinds of wilderness survival and the nature all around them.

 

Apparently Hope had not been taught that highland cows didn’t like to play fetch.

 

“Daddy?”

 

“Yes, baby?”

 

“Why do you sound funny?”

 

Ben stopped typing. There was no way he was going to get his work finished when she was in this kind of mood.

 

“Because I don’t come from here. I was born far away,” he said. Hope looked thoughtful as if solving a puzzle.

 

“Do I sound funny too?” She asked. Ben shook his head, saving his work and closing down his laptop. Hope had developed mainly a Scottish accent considering who she was surrounded by, but every so often, a syllable would slip that sounded decidedly mid-west American. He would never admit it, but it gave him a swell of pride every time he heard it.

 

“No, baby,” he smiled, holding out his hand for her to take, “You sound perfect,”

 

Hand in hand, they walked toward the car, Ben helping her into her booster seat and strapping in her seatbelt. He started the engine.

 

“Tell me the story again!” She demanded, clapping her little hands, her dark hair bobbing around her face.

 

“Again? You’ve heard it a million times, aren’t you bored of it?”

 

“Nope!”

 

“Alright, there was once a beautiful girl named Rey…”

Together, they drove towards Stornoway, Ben reciting the story of how he'd met her mother the rest of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another story complete <3

**Author's Note:**

> If there are any Scottish words, or Gaelic you don't understand, comment and I'll do my best to translate! It's a conscious choice to not write in total Scots as I'm not Irvine Welsh and I don't want to do that to you guys!
> 
> You can follow me on twitter at @PD3Reylo or on Tumblr at www.tumblr.com/polkadotdotdotreylo


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